Harry Potter and Morrighan's Gift
by Athey
Summary: Harry Potter fulfills his destiny and kills Voldemort. And then he gets shot in the back and dies. Destiny decides he got a raw deal and offers him a second chance. Do the job again, but in another world that has no Harry Potter. Discontinued Story.
1. Chapter 1

WARNING – **DISCONTINUED STORY!**

This is an abandoned Plot Bunny. It is up for adoption.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters. They belong to JKRowling. This is a not-for-profit endeavor and is just for fun.

AN: To establish a few things, this story will take cannon up to a point through 'some' of Deathly Hallows. Some details revealed in DH will still be cannon, but didn't happen the same way. The war took an extra two years to complete and did not come to an end in the same way. Not everyone that died in DH died in this diverged history, nor in the same ways. Changes will be revealed slowly through the story.

Before you go any further, you should know that I abandoned this plot bunny after the first few chapters. It has been Adopted by Adrence and** her adaptation is here:**

**fanfiction. Net/ s/ 6700252/ 1/ Harry_Potter_and_Morrighans_Gift**

I would actually suggest going to her's and reading it from the start because she changed a few things here and there in the first few chapters, and if you continue on with hers, right from the end of mine, you might have missed some things.

**Summary:**

Harry Potter fulfills his destiny and kills Voldemort. And then he gets shot in the back and dies. Destiny decides he got a raw deal and offers him a second chance. Do the job again, but in another world that has no Harry Potter.

Ships: None! He'll be eleven, damn it. No shipping eleven-year-olds.

Rating: Teen – just some swearing, nothing big.

Alternate Universe, Slytherin!Harry, Slight Ron and Dumbles Bashing

Warning: No Beta or Brit-Picker. I have not even cleaned it all up myself. This story has been abandoned and sitting on my HDD for a while now, so it's kind of weird for me to go back to it now. Reviews pointing out specific typos or mistakes will be ignored. Whoever adopts it, if anyone ever does, can edit it themselves.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

_Ow._

_Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow... shit shit shit SHIT! _

Blinding, white hot pain encompassed all of his senses. It felt like searing hot barbed wire was slowly being ripped through each and every one of his veins. For a singular moment, or possibly an eternity, he screamed himself horse – or he would have if he had a voice to scream with. But he had nothing. He _was_ nothing. There was only pain.

And then it was gone.

There was nothing but a soothing floating feeling, and then that extremely heavy feeling you get when you're utterly exhausted and laying in an extremely comfortable bed, but know you need to get up.

Harry blinked open his eyes, but instantly shut them again. It was _too bright._ Everything was white. Foggy mist and an indistinct white ground plane. He opened his eyes again and sat up. His body still felt heavy like a lead weight, and all of his muscles felt wrong.

What the hell had happened?

He screwed up his face, trying to make sense of what was going on. The last thing he remembered... it was _the_ battle. The final battle. He was dueling with Voldemort. He had destroyed the last horcrux the week prior and there were no longer any safety nets left. The man was mortal. Harry had even endured that damned awful ritual that stripped the piece of Voldemort's soul from his own body, so he was scott free.

What happened next? Oh yeah. He won.

He'd actually managed to get him with the killing curse. It wasn't the first time that he'd cast that spell, a fact that he was never particularly proud of, but this was war and war meant death. He'd thrown that particular curse at Voldemort countless times, but this was the first time it had actually hit it's mark. Voldemort's eyes lost their life and his body crumpled to the ground.

It was almost disgustingly unfulfilling. The killing curse was so anti-climactic in reality. Just... dead.

But why the hell was he here?

Oh... oh yeah.

He'd been so distracted and consumed by his battle with Voldemort, that he'd been become almost completely blind to his surroundings and the rest of the battle going on around him. He'd heard someone call his name and turned his head, just enough to see the glow of green light coming at him from behind and hear that bitch Bellatrix as she roared in horror and grief at the death of her master.

Fuck. Had Bellatrix killed him?

Well isn't that just fucking grand.

"It _is_ quite sad, isn't it?" a voice echoed out of the nothingness and Harry spun around, searching for it's source.

There was nothing there, but he kept looking.

"Who's there?" he called out.

He turned around again and suddenly there was a black crow sitting on the 'floor' cocking his head to the side and watching him, closely. Harry gave a bit of a start and took a few steps back from it.

"Uh... hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hello, Harry Potter," the voice, which was definitely female, spoke again. He couldn't necessarily say that it was coming from the bird, but at the same time, he was pretty sure it was.

"Er... hello. Who are you?"

"You may call me Morríghan."

"Oh–kay," Harry said slowly. "That doesn't exactly tell me who you are though."

"I am sometimes called the Phantom Queen, the Death Queen, and sometimes called a goddess of war, death, and prophecy."

Harry blinked. _Oh great._

"Alright... so where is er... _this_? I'm dead, right?"

"You are for now."

"For now?"

"As I stated, your end was rather sad. You fulfilled your destiny only to be shot in the back. You were on the cusp of finally being free from the fate that bound you, and yet you were brought to your unfortunate end. It's disgusting how royally screwed you were."

Harry stared at the crow for a moment before barking out a harsh laugh.

"Well, I can't argue with you there," he said rolling his eyes.

"I have come to make you an offer," Morríghan said and Harry sobered up, eyeing the crow suspiciously.

"What kind of offer?"

"The world you just left shall go on without you. The Dark Wizard Voldemort has perished there and his followers will fall apart without him. Those who survived you shall go on and build a strong world in your honor. That shall miss you. They shall mourn you. But they shall live on. You fulfilled your destiny. You saved the world."

"...okay. That doesn't –"

"But now you are dead, and at such a young age. Nineteen years is far too short a life. What I have to offer you is a second chance. A second life, as it were."

"Okay... what does that _mean_, exactly?" Harry asked, still skeptical and suspicious as ever.

"You will be but a child again. You will do it all over. However it will not be _your world_. It will be another world. An alternate reality, as you well."

"Wait, wait wait," Harry said suddenly, holding his hands up suddenly. "I just _did this._ I just finished my thing. I killed the dark lord and I'm done. What you're suggestion sounds like _doing it all over again_."

"You are correct."

Harry gaped at the crow as if it were completely out of it's mind. Because, it _was_.

"The world that you would go to is a world that has no Harry Potter," Morrighan continued. "It's Boy-Who-Lived died at the age of five."

"Huh? Wait, how?"

"He was pushed down a flight of stairs and broke his neck."

Harry blinked and then smacked his forehead with his hand. "Dudley," he growled.

"Correct."

"So... this world has no Harry Potter? And you... want me to take his place?"

"Again, correct. There is no one in this world to destroy this world's Voldemort. If you are willing to go to this world, and repeat your destiny once again, you will have the opportunity to have a second life. Ideally, this one will last much, much longer. You will also retain all of your knowledge, experience, and magical strength."

Harry looked thoughtful for a long quiet minute. "I suppose it would be a lot easier the second time around. I actually know what the hell I'm doing now. I can stop things from happening... I could save people who died... Stop Quirrell in my first year..."

"Ah –" the voice broke in, pulling Harry from his thoughts and causing him to refocus on the crow.

"What?"

"There are more things different in this world than just you having died at age five."

"What sort of _things_, exactly?"

"Some big things... some small things."

"Can you give me a specific example?" Harry asked pointedly.

The voice was silent for a moment and it almost looked as if the crow was contemplating. If a crow could look contemplative at all.

"The Defense position isn't jinxed in this world," the voice said finally.

"Wait... it's not? What does that mean?"

Again, nothing but silence was returned. Harry thought over this bit of information and what exactly it could mean. "Okay... well, the reason that the defense position was jinxed was because Tom Riddle applied for the job and Dumbledore turned him down – right?"

No response.

"So if the job isn't jinxed, does that mean that Voldemort never applied for the job?"

"Correct."

Ah, a response. "So... if he never applied for the job... wait, that means that the diadem isn't in the Room of Requirement, doesn't it?"

"Correct."

"Shit." Harry grumbled and rolled his eyes. "Wait, does that also mean that Quirrell won't be the defense teacher my first year?"

"Correct again."

"I guess I see how some little things can have more... significant repercussions."

"Quite so."

"So if Quirrell isn't the Defense teacher, does that mean he won't be the one possessed? Will there be _anyone_ possessed? Is the Philosopher's Stone even at Hogwarts my first year?"

Silence.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"So I'm taking the place of the five-year old that got pushed down the stairs?" Harry asked, dubiously. He _really_ didn't like that idea. The idea of being _five years old_, and going back to the Dursleys was... horrifying.

"No," the voice said.

"No?" Harry echoed in surprise.

"You will be going back at the age of ten. The summer before your first year."

"Okay..." Harry said hesitantly as he tried to wrap his mind around what exactly this meant. "Will I be just appearing out of nowhere at the Dursley's? I _really_ don't imagine that going over too well."

"I suspect it would not go over too well either."

"Okay, so _what will I be doing?_" Harry asked, getting a bit annoyed and impatient.

"I can not concoct a past for you. That will be up to you."

"Wait, wait... I don't have to go there as Harry Potter, do I?" Harry asked, suddenly getting a wave of inspiration.

"Harry Potter is dead in this world."

"I don't have to be the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry whispered under his breath.

"No, you do not. You can, if you want. But if you do not desire it, you do not have to be it."

Harry was quiet and thoughtful for a long minute as he planned over different ideas in his mind.

"The acceptance letters are sent out magically," he began hesitantly. "They're addressed automatically. The names of magical children are added to the book by some big crazy advanced charm. How am I supposed to work this? Won't it just suddenly show up as Harry Potter?"

"You're name will be what you choose it to be. I will be able to arrange that much, at least."

"But what about money? I mean... I guess I can go in under the scholarship program for my tuition, but that's not going to leave me any spending cash."

"The goblins do not answer to anyway."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"By blood you will still be Harry Potter. Blood is all you need to gain access to the frozen Potter vaults."

"Wait, so you're suggestion that I still go to the goblins as Harry Potter and get the trust money, but... this is going to be seriously convoluted. I'm not going to have any place where I'll live during the summer's. Do I play the orphan card, or muggleborn, or..."

"That is for you to decide."

Harry grumbled under his breath while rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Fine, fine."

He heaved a long slow sigh, taking a mental 'step back' for the first time since all this started and wondering if he was completely insane for even contemplating this.

"What happens if I turn this down?"

"You move on. The next great adventure awaits you still. However, this world will suffer greatly without your aid."

"Oh great. Just pull the guilt card on me. Thanks," Harry grumbled sarcastically. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Am I still going to look like _me?_ Because everyone always remarked on how much I looked like my dad. And the scar is a dead give away... oh crap... what about the horcrux in my head? Is that going to come back?"

"The piece of Tom Riddle's soul that was split off and implanted into this world's Harry Potter passed on when this Harry Potter died at the age of five. _You_ rid yourself of Tom Riddle's soul already, so it is no longer attached to you."

"Oh... well that's a relief at least. So what about the other questions? The whole appearance thing?"

"You will have to rely on magic to alter your appearance if that is what you wish to do. I can only return you to your ten-year-old body. I cannot change it for you."

Harry silently grumbled under his breath before moving on. "Fine... I guess I can work with that. I got pretty good at glamors and human transfiguration the last few years, I'll deal."

"So you accept my offer?"

Harry paused, wondering if he was going to _seriously_ regret this. He had_ just done this _after all. And with things being the same but different, he knew it wasn't going to be a cake-walk by any means.

"Ugh... yes. Fine. I accept. I'm sure I'm going to regret it, but yes. I accept."

"Good. I am quite glad. When next you wake, you will have twenty-four hours to decide upon your new name. Then it will be marked down in the school's roster and when the acceptance letters are sent you shall receive yours by that name. You will have no Ministry Trace upon your body to detect or punish under-aged magic, however you will not have your wand either. Best of luck to you, Harry Potter. The fate of this world may very well depend upon you."

Harry opened his mouth to say something sarcastic in response, but before he got the chance, he had the sudden sensation of falling, and the white misty abyss that had surrounded him suddenly grew dark and cloudy. A swirling pitch black vortex formed around him and he fell and fell and fell...

– –

When Harry woke up, he found himself in a grassy field, in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. From the position of the sun, he could tell it was very early morning. Some distance to his left were a number of cows. He was also naked.

_Oh well this is just great,_ Harry grumbled to himself as he looked around, feeling horribly exposed and desperately wishing for some sort of covering.

He noticed that he still had his glasses and wondered how it worked that he was able to appear with his glasses in tact, but not any clothing. He didn't doubt for a moment that fate was just doing the naked thing to fuck with him.

A few minutes of awkward walking and he found himself at a farm house with a full clothesline. He didn't exactly feel great about stealing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. After checking to make sure that no one was around, he darted out of the tall grass and over to the clothing that was calmly swaying in the gentle breeze.

It was at this point that he truly became aware of his size.

_Ten bloody years old! Merlin, I hate being small again._

He ended up with a pair of jeans that we several sizes too big, and a plain black shirt that he was pretty sure was intended for a woman. It was one of those 'babydoll' shirts that would cling tightly to a woman's chest. What this meant for him was that it was only _slightly_ loose on his malnourished ten-year-old body.

He found a length of rope nearby and tied it around his waist. He _hated_ it. It reminded him so much of his days with the Dursley's that he wanted to wretch. Clothing was definitely going to have to be one of the first things he dealt with.

He was still barefoot, but at least he wasn't naked anymore. With one final look around, Harry decided that apparition was his best bet. He focused on the apparition zone in the back of Knockturn Alley that was out of the way and usually deserted, turned on the spot and vanished with a quiet crack.

He was thankful that it was so early. Knockturn Alley was always empty in the early mornings. It's normal clientèle was much more of a night-time crowd. He kept his head ducked low and hurried through the winding roads until he came to the exit into Diagon Alley, and was greeted with the sight of the large white marble goblin's bank.

Taking advantage of the deserted shopping district, Harry hurried up the stairs and into the bank. There was one wizard inside, but he seemed preoccupied with whatever he was doing. Harry hurried over to one of the open tellers and stood on his tip-toes to try and see over the counter.

The goblin there looked down at him with an air of annoyance.

"Can I help you?" the goblin said.

"Uh... yes. Can you do a blood test to confirm I'm who I say I am so I can gain access to a vault even if I don't have the key?"

"We have special blood quills that can be used to prove your identity, yes," the goblin said.

"Okay, what if the vault in question has been frozen because you all think I'm dead?"

The goblin rose a single eyebrow, giving Harry a rather dubious look. "If our records have indicated your death, then you are dead."

Harry gave the goblin a deadpanned stare before huffing and rolling his eyes. "I seem to be pretty alive. Can we just do this?"

The goblin sneered and gave him a long, annoyed glare before stepping down from behind his elevated stand and heading towards a door. "Follow me."

Harry was led into a room with a table and two chairs. He sat down while the goblin disappeared to go retrieve the needed items. He returned with a wood-backed and framed piece of blank parchment, and a small, long, wooden box. He set the framed parchment and the box on the table in front of Harry.

"Inside the box is a blood quill. It will use your own blood to write with. It will be mildly painful, but the wound will heal immediately following use."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with blood quills," Harry said with a grimace. The goblin arched a single eyebrow but did not comment further.

"The paper is specially charmed. You will write your name on it, and if it identifies that it is true, it will absorb the letters and list any vaults you have with us. If you are not who you claim to be, the name will be burned off. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear. Let's get to this."

Harry opened the box with the quill, took it in his hand and quickly wrote his name upon the charmed parchment.

The goblin watched with a critical eye, but Harry could see his eyes widen as Harry wrote out 'Harry James Potter'. He also noticed the goblin's disbelieving eyes suddenly dart up to examine Harry's forehead. Harry scowled lightly and focused on the parchment.

The letters slowly absorbed into the parchment. The words 'Vault 687; Harry Potter Trust Account', and 'Vault 809; Potter Family Estate' appeared a moment later.

The goblin's eyes darted disbelievingly from the parchment up to Harry and back again several times before he seemed to collect himself.

"I trust that we can keep this confidential, correct?" Harry asked pointedly.

The Goblin seemed to recover himself and took on an air of professionalism. "We have the utmost regard for our client's privacy."

"Good. Can I get copies made of my vault keys?"

"You will not gain access to the family estate vault until you come of age."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. There's more than enough in the trust account anyway. I'm also going to need to create a new account under a different name, transfer money from the trust account into it and arrange for money to be sent from _that_ account to Hogwarts for my tuition."

The goblin took on an amused, curious air. "What name would you like this other account to be under?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair and sighed. This was the moment of truth, he supposed. He'd used a load of different aliases over the last few years while in hiding and training. He supposed all that was necessary was to just pick one. A flash of inspiration hit him and he knew which one he'd use.

"Orion Aubrey," he said after a moments pause.

The goblin gave him a toothy smirk. "Very well, _Mr. Aubrey._ I will make the arrangements."

– –

Harry slipped into Gringott's public restroom and wet his hair, trying to force his fringe to completely cover his scar. He needed to get a wand. That was priority number one. Then he could throw up some glamors and concentrate on all of his other needs. The question was... where? Olivander had that weird way of _knowing_ who someone was. Plus, any wands from Olivander, sold to an underaged wizard, would come with a tracking charm. He could remove it, but it would take him a couple days, and it would be lot easier if he had another wand to use to remove it with.

Knockturn Alley it was. It was unlikely that he'd find as good a match as his holly and phoenix feather wand, but he could find a suitable temp and work from there.

Harry left Gringott's and headed back down Knockturn Alley, heading straight for the only wandmaker shop he knew of down there.

He stepped inside and a bell over the door jingled. The shop was poorly lit and dusty. The walls were filled, floor-to-ceiling with small wand-sized boxes.

"Hello young man," an elderly female voice sounded from a small doorway towards the back.

"Hello," Harry replied with a small grin.

"How can I help you today?"

"I need a wand."

"Then I suppose this is probably the correct place for you."

"I need a wand without a tracking charm, to be more specific."

"Definitely in the correct place," she said with a wry grin.

Harry smirked. "Good. I'll tell you right now that I'm probably going to be a hard person to match."

"Have you had a wand matched to you before?"

"Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't."

"In the interest of saving time, what were the components of this wand that may or may not have existed?"

"There _may_ have been more than one. The wood of the first may have been holly, while the second might have been elder. The core of the first might have been a phoenix feather, while the second was a thestral tail hair."

"Those are quite different wands," the woman mused quietly as she nodded her head and hobbled over to the wall of boxes. She paused and looked back at him with narrowed eyes. "Elder and thestral hair you say? Hmm... curious..." She turned back and began picking out a box here and there, gathering up a small collection in her arms before taking them over to the counter and setting them down.

Harry began going through the boxes one at a time. He didn't even bother to flick most of them. Holding them in his fingers for a moment was enough for him to tell if they connected to his magic or not, and none of them were. She kept making additional trips to put some wands away while bringing out others. Finally, after nearly forty minutes of trying different wands, he found one that felt _right_.

He held it in his fingers and sighed as it felt warm to his touch, and hummed in his hand. "This one," he said with a confident smile as he stared down at the black polished wood. "What is it?"

"Yew, and a serpent scale core. Twelve and a half inches."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his fringe at this revelation. It took him a moment to recuperate from the mild shock of it. "What kind of serpent?" Harry asked in a hoarse voice.

"A runespore, I believe."

"Oh..." Harry said, still feeling rather... _stunned_. "That's... interesting."

He had no idea what to make of _that, _but decided not to worry on it too much for now. It did bring another thought to the forefront of his mind though. He wondered suddenly if he was still a parselmouth. He hadn't even tried to make use of the skill since he'd undergone the ritual that destroyed the horcrux that was once in his scar so he honestly didn't know if the skill had stayed with him or if it was gone.

"Uh... right. Well, okay. How much?"

– –

Harry ducked into another public restroom and spent a few minutes in front of a mirror making adjustments to his appearance. He'd go with glamors for now, but he'd probably go about working up some actual human transfigurations after he had some more time to dedicate to the task. A physical transfiguration would stand up better to counter spells and he wouldn't have to worry about it wearing off every day.

He didn't go with anything too drastic. He left his hair black because he felt weird with any other color, but he changed his eyes to blue to match Sirius's. He lengthened his hair to just below shoulder length, gave it a gentle wave and tied it back in a loose low ponytail Next he smoothed out the skin of his forehead, wiping out the scar that had haunted him his whole life. This was a transfiguration that he had only been able to do since he'd rid himself of the horcrux. His curse scar had always been incredibly stubborn to cover up before that, but once the curse was gone, it was just another scar.

He did a few small tweaks to the shape of his jaw; made his cheek bones a little higher and gave his eyes a slight almond shape. The changes were small, but when added together, they made him look decidedly different. At the very least, he definitely didn't look like James Potter. Which was what was really important.

A few more flicks of his new wand and his stolen wardrobe was transfigured into a set of black wizard's robes with a cerulean blue embroidered trim. Next he conjured himself some socks and trainers. They wouldn't last very long, but they'd last long enough for him to buy some real shoes. He considered making himself a traveling cloak with a hood so he could make his way through Knockturn Alley with greater ease, but it was summer, and he wasn't in the mood to broil himself alive.

Finally satisfied with his disguise he left the bathroom and headed back to Diagon Alley. He didn't intend to do all his school shopping, since he honestly didn't remember what all had been on his list for first year – it _had_ been quite a while – but he decided he would get a few things, like real shoes and clothes. He went to the luggage shop, but instead of buying a trunk he got himself a mid-sized duffelbag that he could sling over his shoulder. Next he went to Madam Malkins and purchased a few changes of clothes and some dragon-hide loafers. Not his style, but she didn't have a lot of diversity for shoes. He'd head into muggle London later to get some jeans and t-shirts and some comfortable trainers, but until then, he needed _something_ to hold him over.

Once satisfied with that, he headed to the Leaky Cauldron and got a room under the name, Orion Aubrey. He got lunch from Tom the barman before heading up to his room. He lay on his bed just thinking over all the insanity that had happened in the last day. He felt like he'd almost been running on autopilot all day, just moving through the motions without taking the time to really realize what he was doing. This was the first moment he had had all day to really sit back and fully comprehend what had happened.

He was ten years old again –_ soon to be eleven_ – and he was in an alternate universe. He was about to start over as a first year student at Hogwarts, but not as the celebrity Harry Potter. Instead he would be a nobody. Just some kid. That prospect was actually kind of exciting. It would be nice not to have people staring and whispering about him around every corner. And if anyone did start to talk about him, it would be because of something he had actually accomplished and not because of something that happened when he was fifteen months old and honestly had nothing to do with. Being famous for _not dying_ was really a pretty shitty reason to be famous. Plus, as far as he was concerned, the reason Voldemort's body had been blown apart had a lot more to do with his mother's actions than his. He had always been rather bitter about the fact that it was always 'Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived' and never 'Lily Potter, the witch who's sacrifice and magic destroyed the Dark Lord's body'.

But that would mean people would have to acknowledge that a _muggleborn witch_ could accomplish something like that.

Harry had a lot of planning to make. He already had some ideas floating around in his head of what all he wanted to accomplish before actually getting to Hogwarts. First and foremost, he wanted to set some things in motion to get Sirius out of Azkaban. The name he'd chosen actually had a lot to do with that plan, and he hoped to hell it was going to work out as he planned. He was working on the assumption that certain details were the same here as they were in his own world.

Even though he could take care of himself, and he only needed living arrangements for two months out of the year, having absolutely no adult guardians was bound to get noticed by someone at some point. If things went according to plan, Harry decided that if he would reveal the truth of his situation to Sirius, and get him to take on the role. He would need to tell the man the truth in order to get him to play along, anyway.

Orion Aubrey...

It was going to be weird getting used to always going by a different name _all_ the time. No one could know him as Harry Potter here. He hoped to hell his plan was going to work because if it turned out that certain details weren't the same in this world as his own, he'd be shit out of luck. He didn't get a second chance with his name. This was it.

Harry sighed and thought back to the time when he first came up with this alternate identity. He'd only used it a few times, and he knew he'd have to flesh out a lot more details to make it workable in this situation, but he was pretty sure he could do it.

Bertram Aubrey was a Slytherin boy in James Potter and Sirius Black's year at Hogwarts. The boy was teased and bullied mercilessly by the two of them. They picked on him almost as much as they picked on Severus Snape. Remus had told Harry the story one night when they were both holed up in Shell Cottage with a number of other Order members about a year and a half before the final battle.

Remus hadn't wanted to dredge up old memories of Harry's dad and godfather being arses, but Harry had insisted. He wanted to _know_ the men who were supposed to have been such important figures in his life, but who had been prematurely taken from him. He had wanted to know _everything_. Who they _really were. Good and bad._

Bertram Aubrey came up because, like Snape, there was an ulterior motive for the young man being tormented by the two marauders.

Snape had been singled out by James Potter because Snape was such close friends with Lily Evans – a girl that James fancied. Aubrey was singled out by Sirius because of his twin sister, a girl named Erin who was a Gryffindor. Bertram, being a Slytherin, considered his sister a disgrace to the family after she was sorted into the house of Lions. Erin was apparently one of the more timid Gryffindors, and she took her brother's abuse. Sirius no doubt saw her as a kindred spirit since they both came from Dark families, while having been sorted into the predominantly Light house. So he had stood up for her, by tormenting her brother.

It helped Harry to understand that there were some vaguely reasonable motives behind his father and godfather's torment of certain students at the school. That still didn't make it alright. He was still rather unhappy with the idea of his father and godfather being such bullies, but it was in the past and he'd come to terms with it.

The interesting thing about all of this, however, was the fact that even after graduation, Sirius had kept in touch with Erin Aubrey. Sirius was a ladies man and was never one for settling down, but Remus told Harry that during Sirius's last year, while confined to Grimmauld Place, that he had confided in Remus, telling him that he and Erin had had an off-and-on thing for years. Sirius had even made plans to look her up again if he ever managed to prove his innocence. That plan was thrashed when he learned that she had gone missing only a few months after he got sent to Azkaban.

It was this story that had first inspired the fake identity that Harry had created and now chosen to use for his second life.

Of course, it would really only work if the same set of events had happened in _this_ world. If Erin Aubrey hadn't disappeared in this world, he was going to have to scramble for a different idea. But if this one worked out...

The idea was fairly simple. He would pretend to be the illegitimate bastard child of Sirius Black. The story would be that Erin Aubrey had had gotten pregnant with Sirius's child, but had decided not to tell him. She'd realized that Sirius was not one for settling down, plus he was an Auror and Order member so he was deeply involved with the war, and Aubrey hadn't wanted her child to have anything to do with the war. So she'd kept the child secret from everyone, including Sirius. She had, however, honored Sirius by sticking by the Black family constellation-based naming system – thus the first name _Orion_.

Harry would go with the story that he and his mum had gone abroad and lived a quiet life for a while, but that his mum had died a year ago and he had just recently come back to Britain in hopes of proving his father innocent, because Erin had always been convinced that Sirius could never have really betrayed his best mate, James Potter.

In Harry's world, the real Erin Aubrey had _disappeared_ – not necessarily _died –_ although most assumed the latter. There had been no one who knew what had happened to her, so it gave Harry a family tree to claim attachment to without having to worry about those pesky papers to prove it. Erin Aubrey had been outcasted from her primarily dark family for her affiliation with the Light side and her refusal to follow her family into the war. It would make sense for her to run off and vanish with her child if she was hoping to keep it away from all that. This story would also explain away why Harry would bother trying to get Sirius freed without anyone calling his motives into question.

With these foundational details laid out in his mind, Harry let himself drift off to sleep.

– –

"_Please state your name and the nature of your visit to the Ministry of Magic."_

"Orion Aubrey. Meeting with Arthur Weasley," Harry said into the phone.

"_Thank you. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic." _With that, he hung up the hand set just and a little badge came out of the coin return slot that displayed his name and the reason for his visit.

Harry quickly made his way past the wand weighing station. No one expected someone as small and young as he was to have a wand yet anyway, so no one stopped him. He wasn't sure if the person manning the desk would notice his wand didn't have the standard tracking charms on it, so he thought it best to just avoid the check all together.

He walked with a purpose and without hesitation. The easiest way to blend into the background and not get stopped was to look like you knew exactly what you were doing. Harry understood that if you stood around looking lost and confused you would draw attention to yourself and risk getting stopped by security.

Arthur Weasley was not aware that he was coming that day. Arthur Weasley had no idea who he was, in fact. But that was part of his plan. Harry had been in this new universe for a week and had spent a great deal of that time in either the Leaky Cauldron, the Ministry's Public Magical Library, or down Knockturn Alley.

He had spent most of the first two days in the recent history section of the library, trying to reacquaint himself with any of the more glaringly obvious deviations between this world and his own. In the building beside the library was the Magical Genealogy and Family Tree Preservation Center, which housed copies of most of the oldest pure-blood family tapestries. They were self-updating, which he was thankful for. In addition to the family trees they also had books detailing the finer achievements of most of the pure-blood families. There was a surprisingly large amount of details available there. Harry supposed it made sense for people who put so much weight and importance into their blood lineage and family history to keep pretty solid records, but the fact that it was all open to the public rather surprised him.

One afternoon spent at the Genealogy society was enough to confirm that the histories of Erin Aubrey seemed the same between his world and this one. Erin Aubrey had been sorted into Gryffindor here, just like in his world, and she had turned up missing the same year that Voldemort vanished and Sirius was sent off to Azkaban. There was no body, but she was assumed dead.

She had also been officially disowned so her line was no longer magically updated on the family tapestry. This was an added boon for Harry since no one could claim his absence from the tree proved that he wasn't really her son.

The following day had been spent down Knockturn Alley where he'd spent a pretty penny to procure forged papers that could be used to validate some of his claims about his identity.

Now he was working on the first step of his plans that would hopefully get his godfather – or who he was now going to be claiming to be his _father – _freed from Azkaban.

Harry made his way to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and slipped inside, quickly making his way directly to where he remembered Arthur Weasley's office being. He was relieved to see the familiar – although younger than he remembered – redheaded man sitting behind his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. Harry knocked on the glass door and Mr. Weasley's head popped up to see who was there.

The surprise and confusion on the man's face was obvious, but he nodded and waved Harry inside.

"Hello sir, are you Arthur Weasley?" Harry asked as he came inside and shut the door behind him.

"I am, what can I do for you?"

"My name is Orion Aubrey and I was hoping I could speak with you about a rather important issue I've been working on for a while now. It may take some time though, so if you're busy I could schedule another time where we could do this."

"An important issue you say? I think I can fit you in. Have a seat."

Harry smiled politely and nodded his head in thanks. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it." Harry quickly sat down and Mr. Weasley shuffled some of the stacks of papers to the side so that the two of them could see each other better.

"Now," Mr. Weasley started with a kind smile, "what is this about, then?"

"Well, I know this is going to sound like an incredibly odd question, but please humor me, alright? Okay, have you ever seen a large fat gray rat that's missing one toe on it's front right paw?"

Arthur leaned back in his chair looked a bit bewildered by the completely unexpected question but then realization dawned. "Oh... actually yes. My son Percy has a pet that matches that description. He's named Scabbers."

"A _pet!_ Really?" Harry asked, sounding horrified.

"Yes, why?"

"Where did he get this rat, if I might ask?"

Mr. Weasley looked _very_ bewildered now but he didn't hesitate. "He found it in the garden several years ago."

"How _many years_ would you say?"

"Um... well... I suppose... Merlin, I think it's been about seven years now."

"That's an awful long time for a rat to live, don't you think, Mr. Weasley?"

"I... well, yes, I suppose it is. What is this about, exactly?"

"I have reason to believe that the rat, living with your son, might not actually be a rat."

_Now_ Mr. Weasley's expression was beginning to shift to a mixture between concern and suspicion. "Why would you think that?"

"I think he's actually a wizard. An animagus who's animal form was that of a rat. I've been searching for him for several years and I recently commissioned someone to perform a complex tracking spell to try and locate him. The scrying stone put his location in your home."

Mr. Weasley's face went pale. "A wizard?" he gasped in a hushed voice. "In hiding? Pretending to be my son's _pet?_"

"It's worse, sir. He was a _Death Eater_. He killed a dozen muggles and framed my father for the crime, in fact. I'm trying to prove my father's innocence, but I can't do that until I find the man who _really_ committed the crimes he was imprisoned for."

To say that Arthur Weasley looked horrified would be an understatement.

Harry went on to explain the fact that Peter Pettigrew was an animagus and that it had been 'Orion's mum's' opinion that Peter had been the Potter's secret keeper, not Sirius. Mr. Weasley was legitimately stunned when Harry said that he was Sirius Black's illegitimate son, but he didn't linger on the subject too long. He was far more preoccupied by the thought that a murdering death eater had been sleeping in his son's bed for years.

Arthur and Harry went to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and after an incredibly lucky run in with Madam Bones in the corridor, the group was in the director's office and Harry was once again recounting his story about his efforts to prove his 'father's' innocence.

Amelia Bones seemed to be simply humoring Harry and Arthur, up until the moment she pulled the file on Sirius Black and saw that he had in fact, _never gotten a trial._ This revelation stunned her. In fact, from what she could tell, he had never even been questioned! He'd been hauled off and sent straight to Azkaban!

She told Harry that this fact alone was enough to warrant an appeal hearing, but she had to admit that she was more than a little curious to see if this young boy's claims about Peter Pettigrew could be true.

The unfortunate, but expected thing was that Harry wasn't allowed to go with Madam Bones and the two Aurors she was taking with her to the Weasley's house to investigate the rat. In informed the adults that he was staying at the Leaky Cauldron since he'd only been in the country for about a week and Madam Bones promised to contact him if they discovered that his assumptions were correct and that the rat was in fact Peter Pettigrew. He thanked them profusely and played up the 'I just want to prove my daddy innocent' card before leaving the Ministry to get some dinner.

It wasn't until half-way through the next week that he finally got an owl from Madam Bones. She and two Aurors had gone to the Weasley's house, caught the ran and confirmed that it was an animagus. They had then taken it back to the DMLE, forced the rat back into human form and performed the interrogation under veritaserum.

Their interrogation had not only confirmed that the rat was Peter Pettigrew, but also that he had been the one responsible for the deaths of the muggles, the betrayal of the Potters, and the framing of Sirius Black. Madam Bones had personally gone to Azkaban and retrieved Black and he was currently resting in the secure ward of St. Mungo's awaiting his appellate hearing.

To say that Harry was stunned with how fast and bloody _easy_ it had been, would be a severe understatement.

He knew that it would have been incredibly fulfilling to have gotten to apprehend Wormtail himself, or perhaps even throw a few _crucios_ at the dirty rat bastard, he also acknowledged that this was probably for the best. Of course now what was important was making sure the man didn't escape and run off to Voldemort. Not that Harry had any way of doing that.

One thing in Madam Bones letter that did catch his attention was that she said that Sirius had been informed about him and his role in freeing the man. Specifically, he had been informed that it was his _son_ that had done all this.

_Whoops..._

All Harry could do was hope that Sirius hadn't said anything like 'but that's impossible, I didn't even sleep with her that year' when the topic of Erin Aubrey's son having appeared out of nowhere, claiming to be Sirius's illegitimate son.

Finally, the letter had informed him that he could go pay Sirius a visit after the hearing, which would be held the following day.

Harry was honestly rather overwhelmed that everything had come together so fast. He honestly had not expected to see hide nor hair of Sirius at all that summer. He had hoped to have his godfather free in time for the following summer holidays, or if he was really lucky, maybe even the Yule holidays, but to have the man freed after only two and a half weeks in this new dimension? Yeah. He hadn't see _that_ coming.

He woke the next morning and went through his new morning bathroom routine. He was considering heading out into muggle London and finding a park or something where he could get in a good run. He had worked his arse off to get his body into good dueling condition in his own world, and being stuck in his scrawney-ass 10-year old body was down-right depressing. He was forcing down three solid meals a day to try and build back up some body mass, but he was in desperate need of some muscle to go with it.

He stared at himself in the mirror after exiting the shower. He still wasn't used to this new face. It wasn't all that different from his real face, but that didn't change the fact that he was looking into the face of a _ten year old_ when he was used to looking into the face of a nineteen year old. The age gap was more than enough to put him through a serious head trip.

He finally huffed out a frustrated noise and left the bathroom. He was pulling on a t-shirt and some loose-fit jeans that he'd bought a few days prior when he heard a tapping at his window. He walked over and opened it up, to allow the owl inside. It landed on the simple wooden desk against the wall and held out it's leg, offering him the letter that was attached there. Harry was bewildered for a moment before he focused on it enough to fully realize what it was.

He quickly worked the letter free and held it in his hands. It was addressed to Mr. Orion Aubrey, Room 4, The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London. On the back, the envelope was sealed shut with red wax and a large H stamped into it with the Hogwarts emblem.

His Hogwarts letter.

Orion Aubrey. It had worked. The school really did have him down by another name. He quickly broke the seal and pulled out the sheets of paper within.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Aubrey,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

It was the exact same. Well, except for the Mr. Aubrey part. He moved onto the second page, which was the supply list. He'd been putting off his serious shopping excursion until this had arrived just so he could make sure he got all the books he needed. By his first glance, it looked the exact same, but he did a quick double-take on the defense text book.

He was pretty sure that the book that had been assigned his first year had been '_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection'_ by Quentin Trimble, but that wasn't the book listed here. Instead it listed '_Theoretical Introduction of Dark Magic and the Practical Application of it's Defense_' by Hicate Terminus.

Definitely worthy of a double-take. Harry had read that book. It was a _good book._ But he was stunned that it was being used as a textbook at the school. The book, while claiming to only cover a 'theoretical introduction' to the dark arts, still basically provided instruction on dark arts. It was based on the idea that you can't defend yourself against dark magic if you don't know how to cast dark magic or how it works. Which... well, which Harry totally agreed with, but it wasn't exactly a Ministry-approved mindset.

It was at this moment that Harry first fully comprehended the fact that he was likely to have a competent defense instructor. A smile spread across Harry's lips at the thought. The Defense position wasn't jinxed here. Whoever taught the subject had probably been teaching it for _years_. It was someone who knew what the hell they were doing!

His peers wouldn't be completely inept at Defense! That had been one of the most frustrating things to deal with the last few years of the war. Everyone that had been instructed at Hogwarts for the last twenty years had had the most pathetic and worthless defense education imaginable. But that wouldn't be the case here!

With a gleeful laugh, Harry finished getting dressed and took his list, his wand, and his moneybag out into the Alley to get some shopping done.

– –


	2. Chapter 2

Warning – This story is discontinued. I wrote 100 pages and then stopped. It is up for adoption though.

– – – – –

The next morning Harry got up at 5am ran up and down Diagon Alley three times – at which point he was seriously out of breath and had a stitch in his side. He walked back to the Cauldron slowly, catching his breath, and was walking past a newsstand at the exact moment that that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet appeared. Harry's eyes widened and then a wide grin spread across his lips at the headline.

_MINISTRY INCOMPETENCE EXPOSED!_

_SIRIUS BLACK FOUND INNOCENT AFTER TEN YEARS IN AZKABAN!_

_PRISONER NEVER RECIEVED TRIAL!_

Harry walked over and picked one up after tossing a few knuts onto the counter.

He walked slowly as he read over the article, grinning all the while. He wondered if he should pay Sirius a visit or if the man would need some more time to recuperate in St. Mungo's. Part of him was dying to go visit the man, but he had to admit that another, even bigger part of him, was terrified of seeing him again. Especially since this wasn't _his_ Sirius. His Sirius had died when Harry was sixteen years old.

Besides... what the hell was he going to tell the man? 'Hey Sirius. I'm pretending to be your illegitimate son, but in reality I'm Harry Potter – only I'm Harry Potter from the future of an alternate universe and I was sent back here by some weird crow goddess.'

Yeah. That would go over real well.

Harry huffed, and sped up. He couldn't avoid this for very long. Besides, the sooner he got Sirius involved, the quicker he could get everything else going. That was, assuming that Sirius would even be willing to go along with him. Hopefully he would.

Harry returned to his room at the Leaky Cauldron, took a quick shower, got dressed in some nice light summer robes that were charcoal gray with red threading and then took Tom's floo to St. Mungo's.

It took him nearly thirty minutes of arguing with medi-witches and desk-witches to finally convince someone to tell him where Sirius Black's room was. Apparently they had been inundated with requests for information on the man all morning, ever since the article had come out. Once he finally knew where to go, he made his way up the lift towards the fifth floor and made his way to the recovery ward. A wizard was stationed in the hall to keep the 'well-wishers' away so that the patient could actually rest, but Harry had received a badge down on the first floor that gave him permission to go past. He had to present it to the wizard, who then had to go into the room to ask Sirius was even willing to accept any visitors.

Harry stood there in the hall feeling a powerful mixture of emotions. He was anxious and wary, but also extremely excited. He was going to see Sirius again. A living, healing, and _free_ Sirius!

A pang of remorse shot through him at the remembered loss of his godfather and he had to pull in a heavy breath to steady himself. The door opened up the wizard came back out. He ushered Harry inside and then left the room, closing the door quietly as he disappeared back into the hall. Harry turned slowly to face the bed and felt his breath hitch at the sight of his godfather sitting up in bed looking at him with wide disbelieving eyes.

"Is it really true?" Sirius whispered in a stunned quiet. "Are you... my son?"

Harry's jaw floundered and he felt frozen. There was a strange glow in Sirius's sunken eyes. It was like... hope? Harry almost felt tempted to just say _yes_, but he knew that would come back to bite him in the arse. Eventually there would be a blood test conducted and it would prove that he wasn't Sirius's son at all.

Harry sighed heavily and shook his head sadly. "No. I'm not."

Sirius's face fell and the expression broke Harry's heart.

"But I am the one that got you freed," Harry said taking a few steps forward. He glanced around the room hesitantly before looking back at Sirius. "Do you have a wand yet?"

Sirius looked confused by the sudden question and shook his head. "No. I haven't been able to get a new one yet. They only just declared I could carry one again yesterday and I've been in this bed ever since then. Why?"

"Do you mind if I cast a privacy ward?" Harry asked and the question earned him a stunned and bewildered expression.

"Er... no, that's fine," Sirius said slowly as he took on a rather suspicious expression.

Harry pulled out his yew wand and with a few silent flicks he'd cast a fairly impressive network of silencing and anti-eavesdropping spells as well as a locking spell and a proximity alarm on the door.

"Alright," Harry said taking in a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come. He walked over and sat down in the chair beside Sirius's bed. "I'm not really named Orion Aubrey, and Erin Aubrey wasn't my mother. It's a cover I'm using right now to try and avoid anyone finding out who I really am."

Sirius's eyes narrowed even further and he gave Harry a scrutinizing glare. "Alright. So who are you then?"

"I'm Harry Potter."

Sirius's eyes instantly went wide with disbelief. "What? Harry P– but... but they said you'd died! You died when you were five!"

"Well apparently the me from this world _did_ die when he was five. That's part of the reason I got sent here."

"Huh?"

"I am Harry Potter, but I'm not from this world originally. I'm from a... a parallel dimension, or an alternate universe or something. I don't even claim to understand it. I was sent here about three weeks ago right after I'd died in my own world. Some goddess that looked like a crow came to me in the afterlife and offered me a second chance if I was willing to come to this world and fill in for the me that died."

"Are you mental?"

Harry blinked for a moment before grinning. "Probably. But I'm not lying. Look... okay I know that some things in this world are different from mine world, but you were made Harry Potter's godfather, right?"

"I... yes. I was."

"My mum and dad, then went into hiding behind the Fidelius charm, but did they tell you _why_? I mean, you know that we were being hunted down by Voldemort, who was specifically after _me_, but did they tell you _why_ Voldemort was after me?"

Sirius looked suspicious again but nodded his head. "They did mention a reason..."

"A prophecy, right?"

Sirius's eyes widened minutely.

"The prophecy said that I was the only one who could defeat Voldemort. He's not really dead, even now. His soul was blown out of his body, but he's got all these dark magic artifacts that he made to keep him immortal so he can't really die. He's just a wraith-like spirit right now, but at some point he's going to find a way to get his body back and when he does that he's going to start up his war all over again. He did it in my world. There was a huge war and it lasted for years. I was nineteen years old when I finally finished it. I killed him. But then that bitch Bellatrix went and shot a killing curse at my back and I died.

"The fates or whatever, decided that I got a bum deal. I mean, I fulfilled my destiny just in time to get shot in the back. So this goddess named Morrighan came to me and offered me a second chance. She said that she could give me another life, but I had to come back to _this world_ and well... _do it all over again. _Which I'll admit, isn't exactly an appealing prospect. I mean I _just did this_, but... oh well. What the hell, right? She also gave me one hell of a guilt trip by pointing out that this world was basically screwed because my counterpart here is already dead."

"Wait, wait..." Sirius said sitting up straighter and holding up a hand. "So... not only are you from _another world,_ but you're also from the future?"

"That's right."

"And you've been here for three weeks?"

"Just about, yup."

"And in the three weeks that you've been here you got me out of Azkaban?"

"Shocked the shit out of me too! Maybe that's one of the differences between my world and this one. The Ministry is like a thousand times more efficient. Either that, or I just really fucking lucked out."

Sirius barked out a laugh and grinned weakly.

"It helped that I knew exactly where Pettigrew was hiding out. I was thirteen years old when you broke out of Azkaban in my world, and it wasn't until the end of my third year that we discovered Pettigrew, but then the dirty rat bastard escaped and went to Voldemort. You stayed on the run with the Ministry convinced that you were still an evil killer and that you were after _me_. Of course I knew the truth, but you couldn't take me in like you wanted since you were still on the run from the Aurors."

"Wait, I _broke out_ of Azkaban in your world?"

"Long story short, you slipped out as Padfoot. You discovered that Wormtail was playing pet to a student at Hogwarts and you were afraid that he'd come after me. That and you just wanted to kill the dirty little bastard and you finally knew where he was."

"This is so surreal..."

"You think it's surreal for you? I'm still freaking out every time I look in the mirror and see a ten-year-old staring back at me."

"Speaking of which, I'm pretty sure that Harry had green eyes."

"Ah, right. It's all glamors and a few minor transfigurations. I decided that if I had to do this I wasn't going to do it as Harry Potter. I already endured that crap. I'm more than willing to save the world again and kill Voldemort _again_, but I'm not going to be a celebrity this time. Being the Boy-Who-Lived sucked and I have no desire to do it all over again. Which brings me to my cover story... would you mind terribly if..."

"If you pretended to be my son?" Sirius asked.

"Er... yes?" Harry said with an innocent hopeful smile.

Sirius let out a slow breath but chuckled lightly. "This is a lot to take in all of a sudden, Harry. I mean, for the last few days I've been under the impression that I had a _son_ that I didn't even know about and that he saved me. But now you're telling me that you're actually James' son Harry – which would be one thing, but you're actually nineteen and from an alternate reality?"

"When I came here... I mean, I know I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for... well, just about my whole bloody life, actually. The _muggles_ who I got left with treated me like shit and never cared one bit about me my whole life. Hell, apparently in _this world_ the Dursley's actually _killed_ my counterpart. And I wasn't the slightest bit surprised when I learned that. But even after entering the Wizarding World I was on my own. When you showed up in my third year and offered to look after me it was... it was amazing. For one brief moment, I thought I might finally have a family. Someone who would actually give a damn about me. But then Wormtail got away and everything was trashed," Harry sighed.

"You had to go into hiding but we still kept in contact. And I spent the Yule Holiday with you one year and that was brilliant..."

"Only once?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"You died the following spring. Killed in a Death Eater attack on the Ministry. It was my fault you were there. You showed up to try and save me, and I was there because I was tricked by Voldemort. Bellatrix killed you. Fucking bitch. Pfft... hell, she killed me too. Damn. That sucks."

"Bellatrix? My cousin, Bellatrix!"

Harry snorted. "The one and only."

"I was killed by _Bella?"_ Sirius looked utterly appalled.

"So was I! How do you think _I _feel about that! I survived dozens of duels with fucking Voldemort for Merlin's sake, and then I get shot in the back with a killing curse by bloody Bellatrix Lestrange!"

"For real? Duels with Voldemort!" Sirius asked with a mixture of stunned disbelief and pride.

Harry chuckled weakly and shrugged. "Yeah. Got pretty desperate there towards the end... I still can't believe it's really over... but then again, I guess it's not. It's only just beginning again. Blimey that sucks... I can't believe I have to do all this shit all over again..." Harry groaned and slumped back in his chair. "At least I know what the hell I'm doing this time."

"I feel like I should be scolding you for your language. You cuss an awful lot for someone who looks like he's only ten years old."

Harry blinked at Sirius for a second for bursting out laughing. "Yeah, well... I guess I'm going to have to watch myself when I get back to Hogwarts. My language has slipped a bit after two and a half years in the trenches."

"Merlin..." Sirius said in a quiet whisper. "So you've been fighting in a war for years, have you?"

"It really started when I was sixteen I guess. That was the year that Dumbledore died... the next year the Ministry fell."

"Dumbledore _died?_" Sirius gasped. "And the Ministry fell?"

"Yeah. But it's not like any of this is going to happen in this world. I mean, I'm only just about to turn eleven. I know things aren't going to be the exact same here as they were in my world – there are already a bunch of differences that I'm going to have to sort my way through, but there's no way I'm going to let it get that bad here, as it did in my world."

"Well, I suppose that's a relief. But you're only a kid, Harry. Can you even really do much yet?"

"I defeated Voldemort when I was eleven in my world. He possessed one of my professors and I ended up killing the guy. Faced him again in my second year, although that wasn't exactly him, it was a piece of his soul inhabiting a cursed diary. Third year you had escaped from Azkaban and Minister Fudge was in a panic so he actually had Dementors guarding Hogwarts and the bloody monsters kept attacking me. I had to learn to cast a Patronus that year. Forth year I had another Death Eater manage to infiltrate the school as the defense teacher and he tried to kill me. At the end of the year I was abducted by Voldemort and my blood was used in a ritual that returned him to a body, but I managed to escape afterwards... fifth year ended with that attack on the Ministry where you got killed, sixth year there was a huge Death Eater attack on Hogwarts and Dumbledore was killed, and I didn't even go back for seventh year because the war had started up. Took another two years of guerrilla warfare to end it."

"Bloody hell," Sirius gasped with a hoarse voice.

"That's one of the reasons that I don't want to be Harry bloody Potter here. There was _always_ someone trying to kill me. I just couldn't get a break. If I can get this done from the shadows then that's what I'll do. If I have to come out into the foreground eventually, then so be it. But as long as I can be just a regular student, that's what I'm going to do. That is... if you're willing to play along..." Harry finished with a bit more hesitation.

Sirius let out a long breath but finished it with a weak chuckle. "Well you may not be my son, but I swore I'd look after you as if you were, and I'm not going to go back on my word now. If this is the way you want to work things, who am I to argue? You got me out of that hellhole, Azkaban. I owe you my life."

"You don't owe me anything, Sirius. You... well, the you from my world, were the closest thing I ever had to family. I couldn't leave you to rot in that place."

"Well, no matter. Whatever you need from me, I'll do it. I'm here for you, Harry."

Harry grinned widely but ducked his head a bit. It felt... good. Maybe this wasn't his Sirius, but it was still Sirius.

"So what's your plan, kiddo?" Sirius asked.

"Well, I figured I'd go with the story that I'm your illegitimate bastard son," Harry said with a smirk, earning him a bark of laughter. "Back in my world, Remus told me about you and some girl named Erin Aubrey and how the two of you had an off-and-on thing for years after Hogwarts. But I also knew that she'd vanished within months of Voldemort disappearing without anyone ever finding a body or anything. It sounded like a decent enough foundation for a plausible cover story.

"Basically, what I'm telling people is that Erin Aubrey is my mum. She and you were seeing each other and when she found out she was pregnant she kept me secret, even from you. After you were imprisoned, she took me and we left the country. We've lived abroad ever since, but a year ago she died and I'd been working on finding a way to prove your innocence since then. I found out about Pettigrew being alive and tracked him down. I returned to Britain and since I'm in the country, I showed up on Hogwart's registrar. Oh, I got my acceptance letter yesterday. It came under the name Orion Aubrey, so I guess that worked."

"Huh? Wait, how'd you pull that off?"

"It was that goddess's doing. The one that sent me here. She said I had twenty-four hours to pick a name and she'd make sure it got on the registrar."

"Well isn't that convenient."

Harry snorted. "Well, now that I've got you free the story is that I've come to you to tell you about my illegitimate self and ask you to take me in, since my mum is dead. If you accept, than you and I can head off to... well, wherever. I guess we could go to Grimmauld Place, but... uh... ew?"

Sirius laughed again. "Yeah, I think I'd rather find someplace else too."

"Yeah, well now that you're clear you should have access to the Black vaults. I've got access to my trust vault, but the goblins won't let me touch the Potter estate vault till I turn 17. But I can still help out if you want to purchase a house that isn't so infested with uck as Grimmauld Place is."

"Infested with uck," Sirius echoed with a snicker. "I haven't set foot in that house in _years_. I can only imagine what sort of state it's in after having been empty for so long."

"Not empty. Kreacher has been there, slowly going completely insane. Or at least he was in my world."

"Oh, _Merlin_, I forgot about him!"

"So anyway, you're okay with my cover story?"

"You mean about you being my son?"

"Yeah."

"Of course! Merlin, Harry, I'd be honored to be your dad, even just for pretend. I'd even be willing to go through the whole magical adoption thing if you wanted. Have many people seen you with your glamors?"

Harry paused in shock for a moment. "Magical adoption? You... er... the glamors... no, not really. Mr. Weasley, Madam Bones, and some shop keeps in Diagon Alley, but none of the shop keeps know me as Orion Aubrey... well, Tom does but that's it."

"Having to rely on glamors all the time in Hogwarts sounds like a pain in the ass. If we went through with a magical adoption –"

"My appearance would change so I'd looked more like you. I know," Harry cut in, still reeling from the suggestion. "I hadn't even thought of that. It's a brilliant idea, honestly But... are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. If we get things moving along fast enough, we could even have it done by the time you have to head off to Hogwarts. It'll also legally and magically change your name to Orion Black. Do you have a middle name picked out?"

"Oh... er... I was thinking either Lupus, or Canis – you know, sort of a nod to you and Moony – but I hadn't actually picked one on the first day, so it didn't show up on the Hogwarts registrar. I figured it wasn't that big a deal to try and add one after the fact."

"Hmm... Orion Lupus Black; Orion Canis Black... neither one really ring together all that well. Plus Erin wouldn't have known about Padfood or Moony, so she wouldn't have thought to name you after either of those constellations."

"Ah. I guess you've got a point there. Got a different one in mind, then?"

"Hmmm..." Sirius hummed and he began to mumble names under his breath, testing out the rhythm of the names as they flowed together. "It needs to be one of the longer constellations. A two syllable middle name just doesn't flow well with Orion as the first name."

"I'm afraid I don't exactly have all the constellations memorized. I only took Astronomy my first year and never bothered to continue it after that. Naming people after constellations is much more of your families thing."

"Orion Perseus Black. Not terrible... Orion Scorpius Black... not too bad either. Orion Reticulum... no, that sounds stupid... Orion Centaurus... No. You know, actually, Orion Phoenix Black doesn't sound half bad even though it's only two syllables."

"Oh yeah, there is a constellation called Phoenix," Harry mused. "Orion Phoenix Black," Harry said, testing the name out. "I could live with that. Sort of appropriate. The whole rising from the ashes of death thing – seeing as how I _did_ die and now I'm alive again."

Sirius gave Harry a smirk and gave him a curt nod. "Alright. It's settled then. I'll contact the goblins by owl and schedule the magical adoption ceremony."

"The goblins?" Harry said, startled.

"Yeah, I know we could have it done at the Ministry, or even here at St. Mungo's, but if we do it at Gringott's with the Goblin's as witnesses, we can keep all of the details confidential."

"Oh hey! We can also rig it so you get guardianship over the Potter Estate vault. That way we'll have access to it without having to wait seven bloody years."

"I don't need your parent's money, Harry. That's yours."

"Yeah, well it's mine and I'd like to gain access to it before I turn seventeen and this will let that happen. Right?"

Sirius blinked and then chuckled. "You've got me there. Alright, fine."

– –

The two talked for a while longer before one of the healer's came in and insisted that Sirius be allowed to get some rest. Harry left with the promise to return the next day and Sirius watched him leave with a soft smile.

The next week passed easily enough. Harry continued his newly established routine of getting up at the crack of dawn and jogging up and down Diagon Alley before showering, eating breakfast, and then flooing to St. Mungo's. He ran a few documents back and forth between Sirius and Gringott's as all of the finer details were ironed out.

After 8 days had passed the Healers at St. Mungo's finally agreed to release Sirius from their care, and he and Harry made their way to Gringott's for the scheduled magical adoption.

The ritual took about an hour to complete. Harry had had to release all of his glamors and transfigurations for the actual ritual, so it was definitely a good thing that they were doing it with only the goblins there as witness. The whole ordeal proved to be extremely exhausting and magically taxing on Harry's young body. He felt like his very cells were being ripped up and reassembled in a different order and it was an entirely bizarre experience.

Sirius had arranged for a rented flat in London for the two of them to use for the rest of the summer while Sirius began a house search, so once the ritual was done, Sirius apparated a now-unconscious Harry to their temporary home and laid him down in what would be Harry's new bed. He took the floo back to the Leaky Cauldron to collect Harry's things and brought them back, setting them around Harry's new room.

As Sirius stood in the doorway, looking down on Harry he felt the strangest sense of _pride_ and joy. He could feel the hum of the magical bond between them now. He felt a powerful warmth whenever he looked upon Harry. Upon _Orion._

_His son..._

But not really. Sirius had to remind himself. This was James' son. Not his. Not really.

– –

"Come on Sirius! Wake up!" Harry yelled as he jumped onto Sirius's bed.

"Uhhhgh... _Merlin_ Harry, you wake up way too damn early," Sirius grumbled as he turned over and pulled the pillow over his head.

"I've been up for _two whole hours_ already! _Come on!_ Get up!"

"Grrrrr..." Sirius growled which really only made Harry laugh.

"It's hilarious that you can sound so much like a dog even when you're not in your dog form," Harry snickered. "You know... I should try becoming an animagus this time. I never had the time before."

Sirius paused at this. He turned over again and removed the pillow from his head. "That'd be pretty brilliant, actually. But aren't you a bit young still?"

"I came here with my fully developed magical core. My magic is just like it was when I left my world," Harry said with a shrug. "The thing holding me back now is this scrawny ass body, but that's part of why I'm running every morning."

"You and you're bloody running," Sirius grumbled, causing Harry to snicker.

"Anyway, get up! Come on! You said we could go back to Diagon Alley today!"

"I did...? Oh... Oh! Oh hell, it's your birthday!"

Harry snorted. "I'm touched that you remembered."

"Crap. Sorry pup, I totally lost track of the days!"

"Does this mean you didn't get me anything?" Harry said with a mock disappointed pout before he broke and began to snicker.

"Of course I did!" Sirius countered indignant. Harry paused and looked surprised.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Sirius!"

"Don't be absurd! Of course I did. This is your eleventh birthday! Even if it's not really."

"Technically, I'm twenty now," Harry said with a smirk.

"Yeah, well _technically_ this is the first year where I have a son, so I damn well better get you a birthday present, no matter how old you really are."

Harry ducked his head to hid the pleased, embarrassed smile that graced his lips. It had been just about a month since the two had moved into the flat together and things had been... _great._

The magical bond that had formed between them because of the magical adoption was stronger than he'd expected it to be. He'd always cared a great deal for Sirius and he had been utterly devastated when his godfather had died, what he felt for the man now went deeper than anything he'd experienced before. It was almost overwhelming. He supposed this must be what the unconditional love of a parent and child felt like. He'd never expected something like this to come packaged with the whole magical adoption thing. The strength of it was startling sometimes when he let himself take a step back and really think about it.

Another odd effect from the ritual that Harry hadn't expected was the way he'd feel about his new name. Ever since the magical adoption, being called _Orion_ felt just as natural and right as being called Harry. He'd even started to insist that Sirius call him by his new name. The excuse was that he needed to get used to it for when he went to Hogwarts, plus it was just safer that Sirius get used to it as well for anytime when the two were in public. Despite the validity of these arguments, the biggest reason he'd insisted upon the name change was that it just felt _right_ to be called that.

Harry also found it was becoming more and more difficult to call Sirius, _Sirius._ Even mentally, he'd caught himself thinking _dad_ a few times.

It was surreal.

As was expected from the ritual, his physical appearance had changed. The magical adoption ceremony involved taking some of Sirius's blood and literally changing Harry's physical body so that he was, in blood, related. Now, when using a blood quill at Gringott's, Harry could write out the name Orion Phoenix Black, and it would absorb into the parchment, accepting it as his real name. Then the text would change and display his two Potter vaults, the private vault he had set up the day he arrived in this world, and the Black family vault that he now had access to as Sirius's _son_.

His son in name and in blood.

And in looks. Harry quite literally looked like a young Sirius Black now. He'd retained some of his old features, since only his paternal DNA was replaced by Sirius's. But his features had always been dominated by James' Potter's looks, so now they were dominated by Sirius's instead.

Fortunately his new natural appearance wasn't that far off from the glamored appearance he had used his first few weeks in this world. But for anyone who did notice a change, Harry could simply inform them that, in order to make Harry his legitimate heir and accept him into the Black family, he had had to go through a magical adoption and it had altered his appearance. It was within reason, and wouldn't be questioned.

One thing that had remained the same, despite the ritual, was his scar. His forehead was still graced with the lightening bolt-shaped scar, so he still had to use one glamor when going out in public, and for when he returned to Hogwarts. Still, one small glamor over his forehead was going to be a lot easier to maintain than the whole elaborate illusion that he had been planning to rely on before the magical adoption.

– –

It took about thirty minutes for Sirius to get out of bed and ready to leave. Harry fixed breakfast, as had become the norm. Sirius had told him he didn't have to do it _numerous times_, but Harry said that he'd spent far too many years fixing himself breakfast in the morning to stop now. Besides, Sirius was a lousy cook.

Their flat was in muggle London and didn't even have a fireplace to hook up to the floo network. Fortunately, they were within walking distance of Charing Cross Road and the Leaky Cauldron. The two of them made their way to Diagon Alley, heading straight through the gateway pub and into the magical shopping district.

"Alright pup. This is your big day. Where do you want to go?" Sirius said looking down at Harry and smiling. It was often difficult reconciling the fact that this cute little kid had the mind of a twenty year old young man. A man who had fought and killed in a brutal war. He was impressed that his adopted son could act so _normal_ most the time. He'd seen signs that there was some deeper damage under the surface though. Harry hid it well. It had made a lot more sense when he'd learned that Harry was a master of Occlumency. One of those things he'd had no choice but to get good at thanks to his connection to Voldemort. Practitioners of occlumency were always masters of concealing their emotions. It often made Sirius wonder just how messed up and traumatized Harry might be underneath it all.

"Eyelops!" Harry said instantly.

"An owl? You bet. I've been needing to get one too, actually. I take it you're getting one to take with you to school, right?"

"Yup," Harry chirped as he began to run down the street, turning and jogging backwards with an impatient spring to his step. "Come on, da_-Sirius_! You're too slow, old man!"

Sirius blinked, wondering if he'd just imagined the almost-slip but then chuckled and sped up his pace a bit. "Alright, alright. You know, I'm still recovering, right?"

"You've had a month to recover! You need to start getting off your arse and moving more."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes.

As they entered Eyelops Harry made a bee-line directly to a cage against the wall with a beautiful white owl in it. Sirius strolled up behind him and let out a slow whistle.

"She's quite a beaut."

"Her name is Hedwig," Harry whispered as he smiled softly at the snowy owl.

"Is it now? I take it this was the owl you had... before?" Sirius said in a lower voice and Harry nodded.

"She was my first birthday present. Hagrid got her for me. The Dursley's never gave me anything, of course. Well... they gave me _bruises_," he finished with a bitter snort.

Sirius growled under his breath. "Every time I hear anything about those bastards it makes it harder and harder not to go track them down and –"

"Don't you dare. They're _mine," _Harry hissed in a surprisingly cold voice that made Sirius startle for a moment. He looked down at Harry, slightly confused.

The young boy looked up and the sharp, cold, look in his eyes was almost shocking. "I never got to _repay their kindness_ in my world, but I sure as hell plan to in this one. Especially since they actually killed me here. We'll have to wait though. If the war starts up again, no one will notice if they disappear."

And with that frighteningly cold sentiment, the boy's face instantly shifted back into into a wistful looking little boy as he returned his gaze to the owl. Sirius watched with a stunned numbness as his adopted son picked up the owl and cage and carried them over to the counter.

"So are you going to pick one out too?" Harry said over his shoulder as he started gathering together owl treats and some assorted care accessories.

"Oh. Yeah," Sirius said, jerking himself out of his stupor. He browsed around the store for a few minutes until he finally picked out a rather stunning great horned owl. The shop keeper told him that the breed was native to the Americas and he didn't often get many in his store.

"He's cool," Harry said as Sirius brought the owl and cage over to the counter. "Any idea what you'll call him?"

"Hmmm... I'm thinking... Corvis."

"Isn't that another constellation?"

Sirius chuckled. "Hey, if it works, why stop? So where to next?"

"Quality Quidditch Supplies!"

Sirius laughed and nodded his head enthusiastically. "Sounds good to me. Although you know first years aren't allowed their own brooms," Sirius said in a mock parental-scolding sort of voice.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, well I'll keep it shrunk and in the bottom of my trunk. Besides, I may end up working my way onto the house team again. Although it'll be interesting to see if McGonagall and Dumbledore will be willing to bend the rules for me now that I'm just _Orion Black_ and not... _you know_."

"Ah yeah, that will be interesting to see. The joys of being privileged and being on the receiving end of double-standards. But avoiding all that is the reason you're doing all this. I still can't get over the fact that you got onto the Quidditch team your first year."

Harry grinned. "Youngest seeker in a century. It was pretty brilliant. Oh hey! I won't have people trying to kill me every game anymore!"

"Well, the opposing team's beaters probably will..."

Harry chuckled and shrugged. "Yeah, but they're _supposed to_. It'll be nice playing a game without people trying to hex my broom from the stands, or having dementors trying to give me an aerial kiss."

"Well here's hoping you luck. If you get onto the house team, I'll come and watch your games."

"You better!" Harry exclaimed and then laughed.

The two entered Quality Quidditch Supplies and set their owl cages down to the side of the door as they browsed. Harry went straight for the Nimbus 2000s and picked one up.

"So that's the latest and greatest, huh?" Sirius said as he came up behind him.

"Yup. It's a pretty brilliant broom," he paused and then leaned closer and spoke a bit lower. "Next year the Nimbus 2001 will come out, but the year after that a competing broom company is going to release the Firebolt and it's going to be _brilliant._ You – er, the you from my world, he got me a Firebolt in my third year."

"Well, I'll have to do that again, assuming that the broom comes out here as well. For now, we'll just have to settle with me buying you a Nimbus," Sirius said as he reached over and plucked the broom from Harry's hand's.

"I can get it!" Harry protested, instantly.

"Orion Pheonix Black! Today is your birthday and I'm going to buy you a broom. And that's final. Now hand me that one next to where you just grabbed one. I want a broom too."

Harry chuckled and reached over to grab another Nimbus from the display. Sirius set both brooms on the counter while Harry went over and started looking at the different broom maintenance kits.

"But Father, _please_ can't I get one?"

"No Draco, we are just _looking_. You cannot even take it with you to school. The broom you already have at home if perfectly acceptable. Next year you will be able to bring a broom to Hogwarts and we can get you a new one then."

Harry whirled around with wide eyes as he saw two very familiar forms coming in through the door.

"Cousin Sirius!" Narcissa Malfoy's voice sounded through the shop with a gasp. Sirius turned on his heal, clearly just as stunned as Harry felt.

"Narcissa!"

There was a moment that passed in utter silence as the group stood there looking at each other. It felt like it lasted ages, but Harry realized it was really only a few seconds.

"My! What a shock. I heard the good news. It was all over the papers of course," Narcissa Malfoy said as she came to stand beside her husband and son. Harry's eyes were drawn to Draco and he had to force himself to remain impassive. It was just _bizarre_ seeing Malfoy at age eleven again. He was so _small._ But then again, Harry realized that he was pretty damn small now too. _ Smaller than Malfoy.._. he grumbled to himself.

Looking over the group filled him with an odd bundle of mixed emotions. Obviously he'd hated Lucius and Draco for years, and he'd never fully be able to move beyond those feelings, but they were laced with pity.

Lucius had died the same summer that Harry turned 18. Killed by Voldemort himself as punishment for some such thing that had displeased him for the last time. Draco had stayed in Voldemort's service for a while, trying to project his mother, but he was always right on the edge of death. Voldemort was always looking for an excuse to kill the Malfoy heir. Both to punish Narcissa, and in return to Lucius's failures. Finally Narcissa had gone to the Order, pleading that they help her save herself and her son.

Draco had come to loath Voldemort with a fiery passion. The man had made his family suffer so horribly and even after his father had served Voldemort to the best of his ability, the Dark Lord had still killed him. Draco had actually provided the Order with some terribly important intelligence as well as getting them a scrap of paper written by the manor's secret keeper that hadn't been burned. With it they had been able to launch an incredibly effective strike against Voldemort's headquarters and Harry had been able to get one of the last Horcruxes that Voldemort had been hoarding away to keep them protected.

The Order had helped Narcissa and Draco get out of the country in return for their help, but Harry had heard word that the two had been killed just a couple months before the final battle. He didn't know the details of it though. He felt rather bad for them, despite everything they'd done, they didn't deserve to suffer as much as they had.

That didn't change the fact that Draco and Lucius were both enormous assholes. Harry admitted that he really didn't know much about Narcissa. She'd been nice enough during the few meetings he'd had with her the last year of fighting. But then again, she had needed his help, so it wasn't like she was going to come to him acting like a bitch.

"It really has been such a long time, cousin. How are you recovering? I can only imagine... well I'm sure you'd rather not talk about that," Narcissa was saying when Harry refocused and realized that they were all speaking.

"I'm doing surprisingly well. Orion here has been making sure I get my lazy butt out of bed each morning," Sirius said with a smile.

It was with this that everyone's attention turned and focused on Harry. He straightened up a bit under their scrutiny.

"Orion?" Narcissa asked with obvious confusion.

"Ah, how silly of me. Allow me to introduce to you my son, Orion Pheonix Black. Orion, this is my cousin Narcissa, her husband Lucius Malfoy and their son Draco."

Harry had to exert a lot of effort not to laugh out loud at the stunned expressions that graced the faces of the three Malfoys. It wasn't often that a person was present to witness when a _Malfoy_ was shocked enough to actually show the emotion, openly.

"Son?" Narcissa gasped as she looked between Harry and Sirius. She recovered quickly and turned all of her focus on Harry. "It's a pleasure to meet you Orion."

Harry nodded his head politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well," he said with a small smile.

Lucius still had yet to say anything, probably preferring to keep his distance from Sirius, but he was keenly observing everything that was going on before him. Draco was now eyeing Harry with a mixture of surprise and obvious curiosity.

"I must admit, Sirius, I'm quite stunned. I had no idea you had a son."

"Honestly I hadn't known either," Sirius said laughing. "Do you remember Erin Aubrey? She was in our year at Hogwarts."

"Oh yes, I do remember her. Lucius, weren't you friends with her brother, Bertram?"

"Ah, yes, Bertram and I were good friends. It has been many years since I last thought of him," Lucius said with a polite, if not _forced_ smile. Harry could tell the man wanted nothing to do with small talk but didn't want to be rude either.

"You were close with Erin, weren't you?" Narcissa asked, turning back to Sirius.

"Yes, she and I saw each other off and on for several years after Hogwarts and through my Auror training. She didn't approve of my involvement in the war though and refused to settle down until I was free of it. It would seem that Erin became pregnant and chose to keep it secret from me. After I was incarcerated, she took Orion abroad and they lived mostly in a small village of British ex-patriots in France."

Narcissa's eyes grew wider with each additional word, and Harry could practically _see_ the desire that was flooding her to run off and tell someone, _anyone,_ this scandalous but incredible bit of gossip. Harry nearly snickered.

"Poor Erin fell ill last year however and died," Sirius continued with a sad look over to Harry.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Narcissa said looking down at Harry as well.

Assuming his most convincing 'I'm sad, but I'm also strong and won't openly show it' face, Harry gave her a tremulous smile. "Mum always said that father was innocent. She told me about him my whole life, and was convinced that he was framed. But there wasn't anything she could do about it. After she died, I stayed with some family friends for a while but eventually decided I would come to Britain and try to prove dad innocent."

"He did too. Orion here is the reason that Amelia Bones and her Aurors reopened my case and caught Peter Pettigrew," Sirius said with a proud smile.

"My! What a story!" Narcissa exclaimed. "You must be so proud of him. And what a handsome young man he is too. The resemblance is remarkable. It's like looking at you as a boy all over again, only with glasses. He's got your beautiful baby blue eyes. You know there's a healer in St. Mungo's that specializes in eyes that can correct poor eyesight. Get rid of those glasses so we can see his eyes better."

Sirius looked down at Harry and rose a single questioning eyebrow. Harry shrugged. "I'll think about it."

"So how old is Orion?" Narcissa asked Sirius.

"Today is his eleventh birthday, actually," Sirius said grinning.

"Is that so! Well happy birthday Orion. That means you'll be starting Hogwarts this fall. Draco is starting this year as well."

"Thank you, and yes. I'm starting this year," Harry said.

Narcissa continued to banter on with Sirius and Harry sighed as he leaned against the counter behind him. He glanced over at Sirius and saw that he wasn't exactly thrilled with being forced into the social dog and pony show either, but was staying cordial.

"So you're starting Hogwarts this year?" a very familiar voice drawled beside him all of a sudden. Harry glanced over and saw Draco Malfoy standing there looking at him curiously.

"That's right."

Draco's eyes trailed over to the two broomsticks on the counter and they lit up. "Do you play Quidditch?"

Harry grinned. "Yup. Seeker, although I was thinking of giving Chaser a try to mix things up a bit."

"You're getting a broom?"

"Yup. It's my birthday present. Dad is getting one too."

Draco's eyes lingered on the brooms with obvious longing. "Father got me a broom two years ago, but it's not a _real_ broom. Just a children's broom. I'm trying to convince him to purchase me a real racing broom and then trying to smuggle it into the school. I think it's ridiculous that they don't allow first years to bring their own brooms."

Harry snickered a bit. "Yeah, that's my plan actually. I'm just going to shrink it and put it in the bottom of my trunk."

Draco gave Harry an approving smirk.

"So I suppose this means you and I are cousins," Draco said after a moment.

Harry blinked before laughing lightly. "Oh yeah, I suppose we are. Wow, that's strange."

"Strange? How so?" Draco said, looking bewildered.

"Oh, I'm just not used to having family. My mum was practically disowned from her's and we went off to France without telling anyone, so I've never even met her brother or any of his family. I doubt they even know about me. Dad didn't even know about me until he got out of Azkaban."

"Is he really... alright? I mean, they say most people go insane after being in there only a year. He was there for _ten!_" Draco asked in a low whisper.

Harry looked over at Sirius who looked bored but was pretending to be interested as Narcissa continued to prattle on about something.

"Yeah... he's actually pretty good. At least, he's good at pretending he's okay. He's coping surprisingly well with everything out here now. A lot of things changed so much for him, so fast, but he's handling it really well. I know it had to be horrible for him in that place, but it helped that he was actually innocent. The thing that makes people go insane is that the dementors make you relive your crimes over and over in your nightmares. Dad didn't actually do anything wrong, so it wasn't quite as bad. And the knowledge that he was really innocent gave him hope and strength. I'm just glad I was able to get him out of there."

"How did you manage it anyway?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well it didn't take much. Dad was never even questioned after his arrest and he never got a trial. They just sent him straight to Azkaban. Madam Bones told me that that alone was enough to warrant reopening his case. But I knew who really did it, and I hired someone to perform a high level tracking charm and managed to find where he was hiding. I told Madam Bones and she took a couple aurors to go investigate and they caught him. Everything happened really fast after that."

"That's really something," Draco mused and Harry could tell he was honestly impressed. To Harry, Draco seemed to be acting rather out of character. He wasn't drawling or sneering nearly as much as Harry was used to, but perhaps it was that he didn't feel like he had to impress Harry, or maybe it was the 'we're family' thing. He really wasn't sure, but he could almost _stand_ this version of Draco.

"So is that a Nimbus 2001?" Draco asked, refocusing on the broom. Harry grinned and pulled it down off the counter so Draco could examine it.

"It sure is."

– –

"By this time tomorrow half the wizarding upper class is probably going to talking about my illegitimate heir over tea," Sirius snickered, followed shortly by an tired sigh. "Bloody hell, Narcissa is exhausting."

Harry chuckled. "You looked about ready to chew your own leg off to get out of there."

"Ugh... I hate high society folks. Especially the house wives. _Gossip gossip gossip_. She looked about as anxious as me to leave so she could get out and spread the word; don't know why she stood around and drug it out so long."

"She was trying to squeeze you of every last drop of worthwhile gossip from you before she ran off to firecall someone," Harry said in an obvious tone.

Sirius snorted. "Probably. Now that the word is going to start going around, I'm sure I'll be getting loads of well wishers and _old family friends_ calling me up. Ugh... I'm just glad we don't have a floo."

"Hey, you know, we should call up Andromeda!" Harry exclaimed suddenly.

"Hmm?" Sirius looked down at Harry for a moment before realization dawned. "Oh yes. I always did like her. She was my favorite cousin actually. The only one of the three sisters I could stand, really."

"She got disowned because she married a muggleborn, right? Ted Tonks?"

"That's right."

"Well you're the head of the family now so you could reinstate them."

Sirius blinked at Harry for a moment before a big grin spread across his face. "By hell, that's a brilliant idea. One more way to spite my old bat of a mother."

"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. "This means that Tonks is my cousin now too!"

"Huh?"

"Dora! Nymphadora Tonks. Andromada and Ted's daughter."

"Oh! Little Nyphadora! Gosh I hadn't thought about them in... wow. A long time."

"Tonks was a real good friend of mine in the other world. She became an Auror and joined the Order. She ended up marrying Remus. They had a son too. Named him Teddy and made me his godfather."

Sirius came to a dead halt and choked on his own saliva. He nearly dropped the owl cage he was carrying. "Say _what!_"

Harry turned to look at Sirius and then burst out laughing at Sirius face. "Wow Sirius, you look like you're about to faint."

"_Remus_ ended up marrying my cousin? Isn't he a bit _old_ for her?"

Harry continued to chuckle. "Yeah, well you do realize that she's in her first year of Auror training this year, right? If I recall my dates correctly, she would have graduated from Hogwarts this last spring. She and Remus didn't hook up until my... let's see... I guess it was my 5th year? Anyway, I know that Remus had a lot of trouble getting over the age gap. He kept insisting that they shouldn't see each other. Sort of a mix between 'I'm too old for you' and 'I'm a werewolf, I don't deserve to be loved'. You know – all that stupid self-deprecating crap Moony always does to himself. Tonks was persistent though. She loved him and he loved her back."

"Wow..." Sirius said as he finally pulled himself out of his surprise and resumed walking. "Think we should try and bring them together?"

"Hmm... probably not. Not yet, at least. I mean, it was hard enough for Remus to get over the age difference when he met her when she was 23. If he met her now, she'd only be 18. I think that would bother him too much. If they haven't met each other in a few years, we can introduce them then."

"Scheming little match-maker," Sirius said with a chuckle as he walked up and ruffled Harry's hair.

"What! I'd like to see Remus with someone, and he was really happy with Tonks. Speaking of Remus, we really need to track him down. Maybe you two can help me brew the animagus potion before I head off to Hogwarts. It takes what... two weeks to brew?"

"Ugh. You'd have to get Remus to help you there. I'm pants at potions. Especially _that_ potion. Still, no matter how old you are _mentally_, your body is still only eleven. I have trouble imagining you being able to actually do the animagus transformation yet..."

"A _normal_ eleven year old doesn't have a well developed enough magical core, or the mental dedication and focus to do it. I don't think it has anything to do with the body not being up to the task. I've got the magic, the focus, and a desire strong enough to stay dedicated. It's probably going to take a year or two, right? I may as well get started now while things are still relatively calm."

Sirius shrugged. "Guess it can't hurt to try. Come one pup, lets get some ice crème."

The two made their way across the street to Florean Fortescues Ice Crème Parlor and ordered a couple sundaes.

Sirius pulled out his wand an subtly cast the _muffliato_ charm, causing Harry to look up and focus on him.

"So does this mean you're going to come clean with Remus as well?" Sirius asked leaning in close.

"Hmm?"

"Tell him the truth, I mean. About your little trip through time and all that."

"Oh yeah... well... yes. I think so. But just the two of you. I'm _definitely _not going to tell Dumbledore. I mean, I love the old man, but he's a scheming bastard. If I can avoid his manipulations for at least a few years, then I'm going to."

Harry looked up to see Sirius's eyes wide and his expression rather stunned. "What?"

"Not very often I hear someone speak about _Dumbledore_ like that, is all," Sirius said with a weak chuckle and a shrug.

"Well, I got to know him pretty well, especially that last year before he died. He knew he was going out soon – _not that he told anyone –_ and he was trying to cram my head full of all the stuff I'd need to keep hunting down Voldie's you-know-what's... hey, you know, this is a long shot, but is there any chance you'd be able to access Bellatrix Lestrange's Gringott's vault?"

"The Lestrange vault? Sorry pup, but that's a no. Not part of what I have access to as head of house Black."

Harry snapped his fingers. "Darn. Oh well. I suppose I'll work on that one later."

"I'm guessing that one of Voldemort's... _things_ is in there?"

"In my world it was. I suppose it's possible it's different here. Voldemort realized I was hunting down his _things_ and had it removed from the vault, but if things are the same, it would be in there right now. Still – I'm not about to try and break into _Gringott's_, especially if I don't know if it's even really there..." Harry got a far off look in his eyes before his hand came up and smacked into his forehead. "I can't believe I... bloody hell, we need to go to Grimmauld Place!"

"Huh? Why?"

"One of the horcruxes is there!"

Sirius gaped at him. "What! Why? How?"

"Regulus! He stole it. He turned on Voldemort there at the end. He found out about that horcrux and stole it."

"Not too sure about that one, Orion. I think that might be one of those differences between your world and this one."

"Oh?" Harry said, sitting up straighter.

"Reg was killed in a raid just a couple years after he graduated from Hogwarts in this world."

"Oh... well damn. It would have been so much easier if it was sitting in Grimmauld Place. I guess that means the locket is still in that bloody fucking cave. Ugh... Merlin I don't want to go back in there... I _hate_ infiri."

Sirius grimaced. "Infiri! How _many_ infiri are we talking about, exactly?"

"Hundreds."

Sirius's face went pale and he looked a bit ill at the idea. "You are _definitely not_ going back in there for a while. That one can wait till you're older and we have help... a _lot _of help. You got me?"

Harry chuckled and nodded. "Sure _dad._"

Sirius rose a single eyebrow, but grinned.

"Well, it's still your birthday. What do you want to do next?"

Harry tilted his head and hummed in thought for a moment before a grin spread across his lips. "Let's head back to the flat to drop this stuff off and then go into muggle London. I want to see a movie."

"A movie?"

"Yeah. You know, a muggle movie theater."

"Oh wow! I haven't been to one of those in ages!"

"You've been in a muggle theater?"

"Yeah, Lils dragged me and James to one a few times. Had a blast!"

"What'd you go see?"

"Let's see... what was it called... Oh! Star Wars!"

"You saw Star Wars in the theater! Haha. That's brilliant!"

"A couple years later she took us to one that had the same actor in it. The one that played um... Solo?"

"Han Solo? So Harrison Ford?"

"Hell if I know. Anyway, this other movie stared him, and Lily said that the director from the Star Wars movie wrote this one, but it was totally different. Not out in space or anything. The guy was an archeo... ologist?"

"Oh! Indiana Jones!"

"That's it! I really loved that one!"

"Which one was it?"

"There's more than one?"

Harry blinked. "Oh man! We need to get a tele in the flat and a VCR. If you haven't seen the others... Wait, does that mean you haven't seen the other Star Wars movies either?"

"They made more?"

"Oh hell! Okay. That's it. Come on. We're going to Gringott's to exchange some galleons for pounds," Harry said with absolute conviction as he stood up and canceled the _muffliato_ spell that Sirius had cast earlier. Sirius began to openly laugh but nodded his head in agreement.

"We still going to a movie theater too?" Sirius asked through his chuckles.

"We've got a month till I head out to Hogwarts. We can squeeze a movie in later. This is more important."

"Ay ay, sir," Sirius said with a mock solute as the two began to make their way down the street towards the bank. This was sure to prove entertaining.

– –


	3. Chapter 3

An insistent knock sounded on the door to the flat. Sirius was vaguely aware of it through his heavy fog of sleep, but only grumbled and pulled his pillow over his head to muffle the annoying noise.

Again it sounded. Louder this time.

"Orion! The door!" Sirius grumbled from under his pillow. The knocking continued and Sirius pulled the pillow off his head and turned over in bed, blinking blearily at the ceiling.

_Oh yeah... the squirt is probably out on his run. Damn._

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Sirius called out grouchily as he pulled himself out of the bed and pulled on a loose outer robe over his muggle boxers. He stumbled his way towards the front door, undid the deadbolt and door lock and pulled it open.

He blinked in surprise at the figure standing there, looking a mixture of hope and guilt.

"Moony?" Sirius gasped in surprise.

"Oh Sirius... I'm so sorry," Remus said as his face crumpled and his head fell.

"What? Sorry? For what?"

"I should have believed in you! I should have fought for you. Then sent you to that awful place without even a trial and I didn't do anything. I didn't even try! I believed them!"

"Oh, Moony! Don't... Come in. Come in here," Sirius said stepping back and pulling his old friend inside.

"Oh Sirius, can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes, you damn fool. This is me forgiving you. Now get your ass inside," Sirius said with an exasperated laugh as he pushed Remus fully inside and closed the door behind him. "We've been trying to get a hold of you. You're a hard man to find."

"Well I've been... wait, _we? _Whose_ we?_" Remus asked as he was pushed down into sitting on the couch. Sirius plopped down in an armchair caddy-corner from it, and Remus was treated with his old friend's wide, wolfish grin. It was quite a sight to see it again, after so many years.

"Oh hell, Remus, you're never going to believe it. It's just... Hah! It's unbelievable!" Sirius turned and glanced at the magical 'clock' on the wall. Remus followed his gaze and recognized a standard family locator clock, mounted there. It had two hands, one labeled Sirius, and the other labeled Orion. Sirius's hand was sitting on 'Home' while Orion's was on 'Park'. "He's out for his run. The little shit has way too much energy in the mornings. Almost makes me sick. He should be home soon... ah, looks like he's on his way," Sirius said as Orion's hand began to move from 'Park' to 'In Transit'. "It only takes him a minute to get from the park back to the flat so he should be here any second."

"Orion? Who's Orion?" Remus asked, looking away from the clock to look back at Sirius with a confused expression.

"Ah, that is the question of the day, isn't it?" Sirius said as he barked out a laugh. "I'm gonna get me some coffee. You want any?"

"I... well, I suppose so," Remus said, feeling utterly bewildered.

Sirius stood up and went over to the kitchen area that was separated from the living area by a half-wall and a counter. It was a modest enough flat, but it _was_ temporary, and it was more than enough to serve Harry and Sirius's needs for the time.

With a few flicks of Sirius's wand, the coffee pot was filled with steaming hot coffee. He poured it into two mugs while getting out a cup and filling it from a pitcher of orange juice from inside the fridge. He set the glass on the counter but took the two mugs into the living area and set them down on the coffee table.

Remus eyed the glass of juice curiously before looking back at Sirius with a single eyebrow raised in question.

"Orion always has a cup of OJ after his run," Sirius said with a shrug as if that explained everything.

"Who is _Orion_?" Remus asked again.

Sirius smirked, but just then a few clicks sounded at the door as the locks were undone and the door opened. In walked a young boy with wavy black hair going about half way down his neck, piercing blue eyes and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He looked to be about ten or eleven years old and was wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt and a pair of loose jogging shorts and trainers. As he rose his head and saw the two of them sitting there, his face showed his surprise, and then he grinned.

"Oh hey! How long as Remus been here?" the boy asked and Remus blanched in confusion.

"He only just showed up a minute ago," Sirius said. "I fixed you a glass of juice. It's on the counter."

The boy snorted and muttered something about 'fixing juice' and some more mutters about 'breakfast' and 'bloody worthless cook' as he closed the door and walked towards the juice. He picked it up and stood there for a minute as he chugged it down, one big gulp after another. He had downed almost the entire glass before he paused, with a relieved sigh. "Ah, that's good."

Remus observed the young man with confused interest. He looked so familiar... it was the strangest thing... And then it hit him. With a start, Remus realized that the boy looked almost exactly the same as Sirius had when he and Remus had first met when they were eleven years old.

He gasped and his head whipped back to Sirius who was still giving him that wolfish smirk.

"Is he your son?"

Sirius exploded into his loud barking laugh and the boy was chuckling as well. It was amazing to hear that laugh again after so many years, and even more amazing that his old friend was still capable of it after so much time in Azkaban, but Remus was still feeling extraordinarily confused.

"Well? Is he? Who... how?"

The boy, _Orion_, came up and set his glass down on the coffee table as he sat down in the arm chair opposite Sirius's, and on the other end of the couch.

"Sirius magically adopted me, so I took on his biology. That's why I look like him," Orion said with an amused grin.

"Adopted?" Remus echoed, stunned. Why in Merlin's name would Sirius adopt a child, little more than a month after getting out of Azkaban?

"Now, legally and magically my name has become Orion Phoenix Black... but originally, my name was Harry Potter," the boy continued, still clearly amused.

Remus's face went slack and he wavered slightly in place. For a moment both Harry and Sirius thought Remus might faint, but he recovered.

"Wha... what? But... but Harry died!"

Sirius was still snickering under his breath. The boy pulled a wand out of a wand holster strapped to his forearm that must have been charmed to remain invisible because Remus hadn't noticed it before. He brought his wand up to his forehead and with a tap, a glamor disappeared and a lightening bolt shaped scar became visible there.

"You're right. He did die. But I'm no the same Harry," Orion said with a simple shrug.

Confused beyond words, Remus turned and looked to Sirius who only smirked and shrugged as well.

"You _are_ going to explain," Remus said and the two just shared a look and grinned.

– –

The month of August passed far too quickly for Harry's liking. It had been the most carefree and enjoyable time he could recall from his entire life. Remus had been stunned by the revelation of who Harry was and how he came to be in their world, but had quickly come to terms with it.

He had visited often, and had agreed to helping Harry brew the potion to determine if he could in fact become an animagus, although he had warned Harry that it was likely that it wouldn't work for someone as young as he was, so even if he didn't have the proper trance dream after taking it, that didn't mean that he could _never_ become an animagus, just that he wasn't ready to do it yet.

They hadn't started brewing the potion till half way through August though, and it would only just barely be finished in time. In fact, it was the morning of September 1st that it was officially done brewing. Not having the time to actually take it while at home, Harry bottled it and added it to his trunk.

Remus arrived at their flat early that morning to help with bottling the potion and then to join Harry and Sirius in their journey to King's Cross.

The trio took a cab to Kings Cross, something which Sirius enjoyed far too much. Harry laughed loudly and snickered about 'dogs and car rides' when Sirius stuck his head out the window as they were driving down the expressway towards Kings Cross. They hauled Harry's trunk out of the boot of the cab and loaded it onto trolley before making their way through the terminal to Platform 9 ¾.

The three easily made their way through the barrier and stood there for a moment, looking at the bright red engine and train that was the Hogwarts Express. Harry sighed heavily and slowly turned back to look at Sirius. It was the strangest thing. This was the very first time that Harry had ever stood before the Hogwarts Express and actually felt sad about boarding it. A huge part of him wanted to just stay with Sirius and keep living in this wonderful bubble where none of his responsibilities or his supposed destiny could come get him. But he knew he could never do that.

"I guess this is it..." Harry said with another heavy sigh.

"Awe come on, pup! You're heading off to Hogwarts! You're supposed to be excited!"

Harry snorted. "If this were really my first time heading out, I'm sure I _would be_."

Remus chuckled and gave Harry a pat on his shoulder. "Well, if nothing else, your classes will be easy."

"And that's a good thing? I'm going to be bored out of my mind. My classmates are going to be struggling to make a feather float and I'm going to have to play along."

Sirius laughed. "Hey, just because you have to play along doesn't mean you can't still show them up. Besides, without the need to study, it gives you more time to prank people. Bring about the next generation of the Marauders!"

"Oh, Merlin, _no_..." Remus groaned and shook his head. "_Please_ don't encourage him to pick up where you and James left off..."

Harry laughed lightly and shook his head. "I guess I'd better get going. I'm... I'm really going to miss you guys."

"It's not so bad. And I should have found us a new house by Yule and you can help me decorate the place while you're home for the holidays."

Harry looked down and nodded. He fidgeted for a second before taking a quick step forward and hugging Sirius. Sirius was shocked for a moment but quickly smiled and wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tight.

"I'm gonna miss you too, pup. You make sure you write at least once a week, alright?"

Harry nodded his head into Sirius's chest and mumbled something that was muffled by the fabric of Sirius's shirt. Finally he pulled back and looked up. "I will."

"Good. Expect a letter from Corvus within a few days!"

Harry grinned and nodded again. He turned to Remus and grinned sheepishly. Remus opened his arms and gave Harry an expectant look. Harry laughed and shrugged before stepping forward and giving his 'uncle' a hug as well.

"Alright. I guess this is it. The train is about to head out. I'll see you guys in a few months!"

"Sooner, if you get on the Quidditch team!" Sirius said as Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage off the trolley.

Harry laughed. "I guess so. We'll see."

Sirius pulled out his wand and cast a feather light charm on the trunk and Harry smiled back thankfully. He hauled the trunk and cage into the train and quickly made his way over to one of the windows, open it, and leaned out.

"Bye dad!" he called out and Sirius's face went all soft and he even looked a bit teary eyed. "By uncle Remus!"

"Goodbye Orion!" Sirius called out as the train began to move. He and Remus both waved their hands enthusiastically while Harry continued to hang out the window, waving goodbye. It was the first time he'd had anyone to say goodbye to when leaving for school, and it was the first time he was sad to be leaving. The train finally pulled completely out of the station and Harry gave a heavy sigh. Harry turned to his trunk, contemplating his next move. He reached down, picking up one end of his magically lightened trunk in one hand while holding Hedwig's cage in the other and began to make his way down the train. He looked into each compartment as he passed, searching for a few specific familiar faces.

It was entirely bizarre to see the younger incarnations of all of his old classmates. Everyone was so... _short_.

On the second car he passed through, he spotted a very familiar red-head sitting in a compartment with a young Seamus Finnigan, and a young Ernie MacMillian. Harry didn't even consider stopping. Sure he had lots of happy memories from his earlier years with the Weasley's, but the last few years of the war had not been good on his friendship with Ron. Hindsight is twenty-twenty they say, and looking back, Ron was never a very good friend. Sure, it was likely that it wouldn't be nearly as bad now that Harry wasn't 'Harry Potter'. Ron's jealousy probably wouldn't be such a big deal now. But there were just too many bitter memories and he just didn't think he could deal with the youngest male Weasley this time. At least not yet. Maybe he'd befriend him in a few years – like how he'd become much better friends with Neville much later in his Hogwarts career.

That was something in intended to rectify this time. In fact, Neville was one of those familiar faces that he was searching for at that moment. But it was another face that he saw first that he decided to finally stop at.

Harry pulled open the sliding door to the compartment he had stopped at and stuck his head through.

"Mind if I sit here?" Harry asked.

A bushy mass of brown hair jerked up from where it had been bent over a book and he was met with a pair of extremely familiar brown eyes.

"Oh! Of course," she said with a hopeful smile.

"Great, thanks," Harry said as he pulled his trunk and Hedwig's cage inside. He lifted his trunk up into the overhead storage compartment and set Hedwig's cage on the bench before sitting down directly opposite Hermione. "I'm Orion Black," Harry said as as he stuck his hand out in offer.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said taking his hand and shaking it.

"First year, right?"

"Yes, and I'm ever so excited! I was so surprised when I first got my letter. No one in my family is magical at all, so it was such a shock when Professor McGonagall came to explain everything."

"I bet! So you're muggleborn then? Adjusting to all this must be quite a challenge."

"Oh yes, but it's so exciting. Once we found out about the magical world I did some reading to try and get as much background as I could manage. It's ever so fascinating. I can't believe that a whole world exists and no one knows about it!"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, well, while muggles are ignorant of the magical world, you'll soon realize that most wizards are equally ignorant of the muggle world. There are some pure-blood families that keep themselves so isolated from the muggles that they don't even know that humans have been to the moon."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she looked stunned. "You're kidding!"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Nope. Totally true. I swear it."

"I take it that you're not from one of those families though?"

"Well I'm certainly from one of those old pureblood families, but my dad and I don't hold to the old ideals much. My mum didn't either. She was from an old pureblood family too, but they basically disowned her when she was younger. I'm sure my dad's family would have disowned him too, but he ended up being the only remaining male heir so they couldn't. It was leave the family fortune to him, or let the Black line die out."

"That's awful! How could they just disown their own family members?"

"It's pretty common among the old families. Do you know what a squib is?"

Hermione frowned and shook her head. She obviously didn't like the idea that, despite all of her research and preparation, she was still ignorant about something.

"Don't worry, it's not a world one would find in polite conversation so I doubt you'd find it in many of the books you read to prep for all this. A squib is basically the opposite of a muggleborn. Instead of non-magical parents with a magical child, you've got magical parents making a non-magical child. When a witch and a wizard produce a child that can't perform magic, that child is called a squib. Most of the old families disown squibs. As soon as the kid is old enough to move out of the house, they're kicked out and blasted off the family trees.

"Some people theorize that muggleborns are really just descendants of squibs. You say that no one in your family is magical, but it's entirely possible that you have a great-great grandad or something that was really a squib."

"Really? You think?"

"It's entirely possible."

"I wonder if there's anyway to find out..."

"Well you could always go to Gringott's and get a heredity test. They use a blood quill and check to see if you're a descendant of anyone who had a bank vault there. If you descend from a line that still has an account with them, it'll list it."

"Oh... I didn't know you could do that. I'll have to try that the next time I go there," she said looking thoughtful. "I still think it's awful that it would be so easy for people to just disown their own children!"

"It's definitely awful. There are fewer and fewer families who still follow the old traditions, but there are still some that do. My dad's parents were a real horror though. His mum was a stickler for the old traditions. His dad's brother was just as bad. Disowned one of his daughters because she married a muggleborn wizard."

Hermione gasped and looked horrified. "Why?"

"Look, it's good that you learn this now because you're sure to encounter it a lot in the coming years, but there are a lot of bigoted arses in the wizarding world. Wizard's who can trace their family line back as 'pure wizard blood' for such-and-such many generations consider themselves superior to those with 'less pure blood' than them. And anyone who's muggleborn is considered the lowest of low. The only thing lower than a muggleborn is a muggle."

Hermione looked horror struck.

"But don't take them seriously. They're idiots and that's all. In fact, their ignorance is destroying their bloodlines."

"What do you mean?"

"They're so terrified of 'tainting' their oh-so-pure blood with 'impure' blood, that they're marrying second and third cousins. They don't want to marry someone that has muggleborn blood even two or tree generations back so they marry those who they know are pure – their own relatives."

"Inbreeding?" Hermione gasped with a grimace.

"Exactly. And all the inbreeding does is cause more squibs to be born. So they're literally screwing themselves over with their ignorance."

"I never saw anything about any of that in any of the books I read."

"You aren't going to find a lot of published books that discuss the wizarding world's flaws so openly."

"I suppose not."

"But don't worry. It's not all bad and most of the bigots won't be openly offensive about it. At least not while any professors are around. And if anyone's stupid enough to try and mess with you, I'll kick their arse."

Hermione gasped. "What? No! Why would you even do that? You don't even know me!"

"I've got a sixth sense about people, and I know you're a good person. I stick up for my friends and I just know that you and me are going to be good friends," Harry said with a big grin and a nonchalant shrug.

"F-friends?" Hermione said, blinking in surprise. "You really mean it?"

"You bet!"

The two slipped into far more comfortable conversation after that and Hermione began to make use of Harry's in depth knowledge of the wizarding world to answer all the questions she had, but had not been able to find in her books.

The snack trolley witch came by and Harry bought a small, but diverse selection of snacks and managed to convince a reluctant Hermione to try a few of them.

A few hours into the train ride in the middle of a discussion between Harry and Hermione on the inconsistencies between older and current editions of '_Hogwarts, A History'_, the door to their compartment slid open to reveal an oddly familiar sight.

_Deja vu..._ Harry thought with a snicker as Draco Malfoy stepped through, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Orion! There you are. I was looking for you."

"Hey Draco. Who are your friends?"

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said with a nod over each shoulder to indicate which over-sized boy was which. "Guys, this is my cousin, Orion Black."

The two boys grunted and nodded their heads in greeting. Harry had to stifle his snickers.

"It's a pleasure to meet the two of you. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle – this is Hermione Granger."

Draco's eyes narrowed and he gave Hermione a scrutinizing look. "Granger? Never heard that family name before. Your family are _our kind, _aren't they?" Draco drawled with his nose turned up rather snootily.

"Awe,_ come on, _Draco. Don't pull that crap around me," Harry groaned with an over-dramatic roll of his eyes.

Draco looked stunned. "What? Are you saying you would actually willingly associate with some filthy –"

Harry was on his feet with his wand in Draco's face faster than anyone could even register that he'd moved.

"I'll only say this once, Draco," Harry began in a quiet hushed voice. "I'm cool with you. You're family, and I sort of like the idea of having a family, but I don't buy into the bigoted blood supremacy line. I judge people by their skill and power. Blood doesn't mean shit if the wizard is a total flunkie, or a near-squib. Even the Dark Lord was a halfblood with a muggle father. I ever hear you calling someone _mudblood_ in my presence and I won't hesitate to hex you – family or not."

Draco stared down the tip of Harry's wand with eyes wide as saucers and an utterly stunned expression. It seemed to take a whole thirty seconds for his brain to start functioning again, when suddenly he registered what Harry had said.

"What do you mean the Dark Lord was a half-blood! A muggle father? You're lying!"

Harry took a step back and smirked. "What, you never heard? I guess it's not exactly common knowledge, but it's not really a secret either. His mother's line descends from Salazar Slytherin himself, but his father was a _muggle_. The poor stupid sod left the Dark Lord's mother when she was pregnant, and then she died just after childbirth. The Dark Lord was raised in a _muggle orphanage_. I'm sure you're dad knows at least some of this. Your grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy was in the same year as the Dark Lord when he attended Hogwarts. They shared a dorm room."

Draco looked utterly stunned. "How do you know all this?"

Harry shrugged. "I listen and I research. I also traveled a lot with my mum before she died. We lived in a village of British ex-patriots in France for a while. Most of the people there were witches and wizards who escaped Britain because of the last war."

Draco nodded his head slowly and looked thoughtful. "My grandfather really went to school with him?" he asked, _awe_ in his voice.

"Yup. My grandfather, Orion Black was three years under them both, so he knew them too. They were all in Slytherin together of course."

"Of course... so... so what was his name? The Dark Lord?"

"Tom Riddle. Named after his muggle father. It's the main reason he came up with his alias. Way I understand it, he hated his muggle father for ditching he and his mum. Probably one of the reasons he hated muggles so much. If you take his full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and mix the letters around, it forms, _I am Lord Voldemort._"

Crabbe and Goyle both gasped as Harry said the name and Draco looked both stunned and awestruck that Harry had the guts to actually _say the name_.

"So," Harry continued after the three boys had a moment to digest what he'd said, "it's obvious that someone having _tainted muggle blood_ doesn't really make them weak. Going around and assuming that all muggleborns or halfbloods are going to be weak or inferior is a rather ignorant mindset to take. You may just be surprised and find a muggleborn or a halfblood that turns out to be an incredibly powerful witch or wizard when they grow up. From what I've heard, the Dark Lord was actually _teased_ his first few years at Hogwarts because he was a halfblood sorted into Slytherin. I can imagine that the people who bullied him the most his first few years at school, were some of the first he killed when he came into power later in life."

Draco's face suddenly went pale and he looked like he was going to be sick.

"Just something to think about," Harry said with a smirk as he sat back down. He pointed to the still sizable pile of candy on the bench beside him. "You want any? I'm full and Hermione's parents are dentists so she refuses to help me with it much."

Draco and his two lackeys only stayed for a few minutes longer before they left to return to whatever compartment they came from.

"You're really good at that," Hermione said after a moment.

"Good at what?" Harry replied, confused.

"Making people see your point to things. He was from one of those bigoted pureblood families you mentioned, right?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely. Draco's dad is about as big a pureblood supremacist as you can get. His mum probably isn't much better since she's from the Black family. She's my dad's cousin – that's how Draco and I are related. Draco's aunt Andromeda was the one who married a muggleborn wizard and got disowned from the Black family for it. Draco's other aunt, Bellatrix, and his dad Lucius, were both Death Eaters – those are Voldemort's followers. His aunt Bellatrix – who's also my dad's cousin – ended up in Azkaban for it, but the Ministry was never able to prove that Draco's dad was a Death Eater, so he got off."

"Oh wow... Erm, was all that stuff true about um... about _You-Know-Who_?" Hermione asked, saying 'you-know-who' in a whisper. "Was he really a half-blood?"

"Yup. Completely true."

"I read all about him, of course, but there wasn't anything about who he really was. From the books I read, it almost made him seem like some supernatural _monster_ that just appeared out of nowhere as a horrible killing machine. The way you talked about him makes him more... real. Like an actual person."

"It's hard for people to think that anyone could be able to do such horrible things. I think for some people it's easier to think of him as a monstrous demon, than it is to acknowledge that a human being is capable of committing such atrocities. It was also probably his goal to be seen as sort of _god-like_, rather than just a man. Makes his followers more loyal, while making his enemies afraid. It's like that whole 'you-know-who' and 'he-who-must-not-be-named' bull. People are so scared of him that they can't even bring themselves to say his name. But he's just a man. He wanted to be feared. To be _revered_ as some sort of super-entity, but he wasn't. He was just a man. And when you realize that he's just a man, you realize he's not unbeatable. He _can_ be killed."

"Wow... well, at least we don't really have to worry about all that. It makes for fascinating reading and history, but I'm glad that he's dead. A man or not, he still sounds horrible to me."

"_Yeah... _Anyway, how about I teach you how to play gobstones? It's a wizard game and it'll help the time pass."

She hesitated for a moment but eventually welcomed the change in topic. The two spent the majority of the remaining trip playing gobstones and talking about the wizarding world.

– –

Eventually the call came out notifying everyone on the train that they'd be arriving at Hogsmeade station soon. Harry stepped out of the compartment so Hermione to get into her robes and then they swapped and he got into his. The train pulled up to the station and they were informed to leave their trunks on the platform and they'd be taken up to the castle.

"Don't worry, they'll be in your dorm room when the feast is over," Harry had said dismissively as he bid Hedwig farewell inside her cage.

"But we'll all be sorted during the feast, right? That's what Hogwarts a History said. How will they know which dorm the trunks should go to?"

"Oh, the house elves take care of it."

"The what?"

Harry paused, wondering if he was really willing to risk a repeat of S.P.E.W. so soon. He sighed. It was inevitable.

"They're sort of the hired help. The work staff. They clean the castle, do the laundry, cook the meals – that sort of stuff. I mean, for example, when the meals are served they'll seem to just appear out of nowhere on the tables, but the food isn't just _appearing out of nowhere._ It's like er... Gant's third law of magical conjuring or something that says you can't make food from nothing. What's really happening is that one floor below the Great Hall is the kitchens where the house elves are working away, preparing the food. Then when the time is right, the food is magicked from down there, directly up onto the tables. There's supposed to be loads of things like that at Hogwarts. Magic that looks like one thing on the surface, but has something deeper actually going on behind the scenes."

"Are they really _elves?"_

"Yup. Although I doubt that the muggle idea of an 'elf' would be the same as what house elves actually look like. They're small, about er.. this high –" Harry held his hand about level with his waist. "They have huge eyes about the size of tennis balls, and big floppy bat ears. My dad told me how to find the kitchens so if you want I could take you down there and you could meet them sometime. They're usually pretty nice and really _really_ eager to help. They love helping people. If you ask them to do something for you, they'll be thrilled and get right on it. They're kind of eccentric like that."

"I think I'd like that," she said with a determined nod.

Harry grinned. _Crisis averted... for now._ He'd managed to tell her quite a bit about house elves without letting it slip that they were basically bonded slaves. She'd surely find out eventually, but for now, this would do.

Speaking of the house elves reminded Harry of Dobby and he wondered if there was any way that he could still manage to save the little guy from the Malfoys.

_I wonder if I could buy him from them..._

"Firs' years! Firs' years ov'r this way!" Hagrid's booming voice called out over the crowd and Harry couldn't help but turn and smile at the man who was his first friend in the magical world.

"Come on!" Harry said eagerly to Hermione. She seemed to be a bit dumbstruck as she looked up at the enormous bearded man with wide eyes.

"Four ter a boat! Come on, this way!" Hagrid was saying as Harry dragged Hermione towards one of the small boats. Harry turned and looked around the gathering crowd of first years, searching for any sign of Neville. He frowned as his eyes scanned the crowd again and again and still turned up no sign of the boy. Finally he sighed and climbed into the boat.

He saw Draco glance his way, but he was already with Crabbe, Goyle, and Theodore Nott. Harry and Hermione were joined a moment later by Daphne Greengrass and Hannah Abbott. Once every boat was full, Hagrid called out the command and they all started to move across the pristine surface of the lake.

Harry grinned widely at the sight of the castle coming into view for the first time. Everyone else was 'Ooing' and 'Awing' at the sight in wonder. The boats docked and Hagrid led them all up to the front entrance of the castle before handing them off to Professor McGonagall. She led them into the anti-chamber beside the Great Hall and Harry was surprised to see a nervous looking Neville already there, standing to the side trying to act invisible.

Harry led Hermione over towards him as inconspicuously as he could manage. McGonagall began to describe how the houses worked at Hogwarts; going on about family, and how your triumphs will aid your house, etc. etc. Harry had tuned her out. She left a moment later and he turned to Neville.

"Hello. I'm Orion Black," Harry said offering his hand.

Neville's head shot up in surprise and he blinked at Harry owlishly. "Oh, erm... I-I'm Neville Longbottom," he said shakily before hesitantly taking Harry's offered hand.

"Nice to meet you Neville," Harry said grinning. He turned slightly towards Hermione. "This is my friend, Hermione Granger."

Harry could swear that Hermione seemed surprised at being introduced as his 'friend', but she recovered quickly enough. She smiled softly at Neville and offered her hand as well.

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you Hermione," Neville said, still appearing a bit dumbstruck.

"Nice to you meet you too, Neville," Hermione said with a smile.

"– my brothers said you might have to fight a troll!" a familiar voice carried over the din of voices in the small room and Harry looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at Ron Weasley.

"No way! They wouldn't really do that, would they?" Seamus Finnigan gasped, looking pale.

"What are they talking about?" Hermione asked, having followed Harry's attention.

"They're theorizing on what's involved in the sorting."

"How do they think it's done?" Hermione asked and Harry looked back at her to notice she looked worried.

"Oh don't worry. It's just a magical hat."

"A hat?" Hermione said, looking bewildered.

"He's right," Neville interjected. "They put the sorting hat on your head and it reads your mind. It decides which house you should be in."

Harry looked at Neville with an air of surprise and wondered how he knew that.

"It reads your mind?" Hermione gasped. "I don't know how I feel about that..."

"Don't worry, I don't think it can tell anyone else about what it sees there," Neville said.

A moment later conversation was diverted by the sudden appearance of the different house ghosts, and then by the reappearance of McGonagall. She had them form a line and directed them into the hall.

Harry stood there in the hall letting his eyes wander the crowd while the hat sang it's song. So many familiar faces, only younger and more innocent. He'd seen so many of them die... He'd killed some of them himself, actually. Quite a few of the older Slytherins currently seated at the table of green and silver had joined the Death Eaters. Of course, there had been a few from other houses as well, just not nearly as many.

His eyes wandered to the head table and he let his eyes trail to the seat that, in his world, had been occupied by a new face every year. The seat reserved for the defense teacher. Who he saw there nearly made him stumble in shock.

It was Alice Longbottom.

Alive, and totally aware and functioning!

_Holy shit!_ _Well that explains why Neville wasn't on the train... and why he knew about the sorting..._

But if Alice Longbottom was alive and well, what about Frank? Did Neville have both his parents in this world?

"Abbott, Hannah!" McGonagall's voice called out, pulling Harry from his thoughts.

Hannah Abbott walked nervously up to the three-legged stool sitting at the front of the Great Hall and sat down. McGonagall placed the hat on her head and after a moment's silence the rip opened back up and called out "_HUFFLEPUFF!"_.

"Black, Orion!" Harry blinked, startled slightly at being second to be called up. He wasn't used to being so close to the front of the alphabet yet.

He stepped out from the group of first years and walked to the head. No one gasped or whispered or followed him with their eyes. No one cared about him and it was _fantastic. _McGonagall, however, seemed to be eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation. He wondered if she'd heard any of the gossip buzzing around about him yet. If she knew who his father was. He gave her one of Sirius's big wolfish grins and her eyes widened and she paled a bit.

He sat down on the stool and McGonagall quickly placed the hat on his head.

"_What have we got here... another Black eh? Ambitious as any. Cunning as well. Quite a mind on you, boy. There's power there. You could be great. I know just where to put you."_

_Hey, whoa there. Wait a minute –!_

"_Better be... _SLYTHERIN!"

_WHAT! WAIT! NO!_

But then McGonagall was pulling the hat off his head and he was forced to stand to his feet. He walked in an almost mindless daze across the hall and sat down heavily at the Slytherin table to the sound of polite applause from his new house mates for being the first of the new class sorted into Slytherin.

This was _not_ part of the plan.

_How was he going to tell his Da... Sirius? Or Remus? What would they think of him now?_

He was also a bit confused that the hat hadn't realized his unique... _situation._ He had almost been expecting the thing to refuse to sort him or something. What he had not expected was to get sorted straight away into the house of the snakes.

Sure, the hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin the first time, but in more recent years he'd hoped that was mostly because of Voldemort's horcrux. And if not, he'd done more than his fair share of courageous, headstrong, Gryffindorish craziness to more than warrant his place in the house of lions.

_Admittedly, _he was a lot more devious now than he had been when he was actually eleven years old. He had needed to be cunning and sneaky to survive the war. And he'd come to realize that you couldn't defeat a monster without understanding it. He'd come to _know_ Voldemort in a way no one else really got to. Even his followers. Up until he'd rid himself of the horcrux, they had even started a mental battle of wills each night. They would literally battle each other in their sleep.

It had been exhausting.

Merlin he had been glad to be rid of that damned horcrux. He had felt a bit lost without it at first. Voldemort didn't often send him anything useful, but he had accidentally let things slip from time to time.

Harry shook his head, pulling himself out of his stunned fog. Maybe he could make this work. He could be on the inside. He could be his own spy. His eyes on the inside of Slytherin. Of course he'd have a hard time getting anyone to trust him, and an even harder time getting anyone to fight for him when it came time for the actual war, but if he was smart about things, he could maybe prevent the war from ever even starting.

Harry was pulled back to his surroundings by the applause from the Ravenclaw table as Terry Boot was sorted. Next came Lavender Brown, and she was sent off to Gryffindor. Millicent Bulstrode sat down next and after about twenty seconds, the hat called out _Slytherin._ Harry applauded lightly with the rest of his new house mates, but he felt like he was doing it on auto-pilot. Millicent sat down across from him and he gave her a polite smile. She raised a single eyebrow as if to silently ask 'what the hell are _you_ smiling at?' Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the sorting.

Mandy Brocklehurst and then Micheal Corner went to Ravenclaw. Vincent Crabbe came next and he was sent to Slytherin. He sat down next to Harry and gave him a curt nod and a grunt-like greeting. Tracy Davis came next and she was sorted into Slytherin as well. She sat down beside Daphne Greengrass on her left.

The sorting continued, each and every person being sent to the same house that their counterpart in Harry's world had gone to. As was expected, Gregory Goyle was sent to Slytherin, and he sat down next to Crabbe. The two scooted over, leaving an empty space next to Harry, and he could only assume that they'd done this in preparation for Draco wanting to sit there. Harry felt like cursing his shitty luck.

Following Goyle, McGonagall called out "Granger, Hermione!" Harry sat up straighter and caught her eye. She looked incredibly nervous so he gave her a warm an encouraging smile. She smiled back and walked forward and sat down on the stool. The hall was quiet for a fairly long time after the hat was placed on Hermione's head. Harry tried to remember if it had taken this long for it to sort Hermione his first time, but he hadn't really been paying attention to her at all during his original sorting, so he just didn't remember.

Finally, after what felt like ages, but was probably closer to two minutes, the hat twitched on her head, opened it's 'mouth' and called out _"SLYTHERIN!"_

Harry nearly choked on his own spit.

Harry watched in absolute shock as Hermione stood up, removed the hat from her head and handed it to McGonagall.

Hermione, _in Slytherin?_ What the holy hell? How the fuck did _that _happen?

And then he knew. He just _knew_. It was because of him. She had asked the hat to go into Slytherin so she could be with her _friend. _Chances were that Hermione had probably talked the hat into putting her into Gryffindor in his original world. She honestly belonged in Ravenclaw. That was the house where she would fit in the best, but she had probably asked to go into Gryffindor because she wanted to make friends, and Gryffindor probably sounded like the best place to make friends.

Now she had _made_ a friend, and that friend was sorted into Slytherin. So to Slytherin she had gone too.

_Oh, Hermione..._ Harry sighed sadly in his mind. I_ sure hope you don't regret this... and resent me for it..._

Suddenly he caught her eyes and she was looking distinctly worried. He realized that his house mates were clapping – although they were clearly doing it with an air of hesitation – and _he_ was sitting there staring at her like an idiot. He forced a smile onto his face and began to clap loudly. She smiled back, looking reassured and quickly made her way over to the table. She hesitated as she stood down the table from him but he nodded his head towards the open spot between him and Crabbe. The large boy looked about to protest but didn't, instead he and Goyle scooted a bit further down to make even more room.

Daphne Greengrass was called next and she was sent straight to Slytherin. She sat across the table from Hermione and next to Millicent. She gave Hermione a small smile and Hermione smiled back. They had sat next to each other in the boat ride, but hadn't really said anything during that time.

The next name called was Neville Longbottom and Harry found himself paying close attention again. What changes would there be with Neville? Would he still be a Gryffindor? Harry could see Neville in Hufflepuff, but _never_ in Slytherin. The Neville he knew wouldn't fit into Ravenclaw either, but this Neville had his mother to guide him, and for all Harry knew, his father too.

As much as it weirded him out to think of _Hermione_ being in _Slytherin_, he had to admit that she was extremely ambitious and clever. She had proven on more than a few times that she could be cunning and sneaky, but she also had an extremely strong sense of justice, which wasn't exactly a trait often found in Slytherins.

About a minute passed in silence with the hat atop Neville's head before the rip opened up and it called out "_GRYFFINDOR!"_

Harry sighed lightly in relief. He was glad Neville had gotten into Gryffindor, although he couldn't help but wonder if this world's version would be just as shy and lacking in confidence as his world's version. His Neville had had a lot of difficulty making friends in Gryffindor.

The Gryffindor table applauded their newest addition as Neville stood up and started to make his way towards the table. The applause shifted into laughter as Neville suddenly realized he still had the hat on his head and had to run back to return it to McGonagall.

A living mother or not, this Neville didn't seem to be much different than the one he'd known.

An idea suddenly struck Harry and he focused on it, quickly formulating a plan. Harry turned to Hermione and smirked, "Wanna see a magic trick?"

She looked at him curiously and raised a questioning brow.

"Macmillan, Ernie!" McGonagall called out.

Just as the boy sat on the stool, Harry quietly spoke, although it wasn't so quiet that no one else could hear. "Hufflepuff," Harry said with a smirk.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" called out the hat.

Both of Hermione's eyebrows rose in question now.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"Pfft. That ones obvious. Slytherin," Harry said dismissively.

As soon as the hat touched his head, it called out "SLYERHIN!"

Draco strutted across the hall with a smug look on his face and made his way over to Harry. He eyed the empty spot between Hermione and Crabbe and grimaced. Harry quickly asked Hermione if she would switch places with him so he could sit next to his cousin and she easily obliged. Harry figured it would just be easier to avoid a confrontation on the first night if the two weren't sitting next to each other.

"Moon, Cassandra!" McGonagall called out.

"Ravenclaw," Harry said in a bored tone. Hermione looked at him with some confusion, and Daphne and Tracy were both watching him now too.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat called out.

"How are you doing that?" Hermione asked. Harry just grinned at her.

"Murray, Rachel!"

"She'll go to Ravenclaw," Harry said, gaining another pointed questioning look from Hermione.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Nott, Theodore!"

"Another easy one. Slytherin," Harry said followed by a yawn.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

"Slytherin again," Harry said.

And a moment later the hat yelled out "SLYTHERIN!"Draco seemed to have caught on that something weird was going on now too.

"What are you doing?"

"Magic trick," Harry said, still grinning slyly.

"Patil, Padma!" McGonagall called out.

"She'll go to Ravenclaw, but her twin sister will go to Gryffindor."

Hermione, Daphne, Tracy, Draco, Crabbe and Millicent were all looking at him curiously now. Pansy looked confused and leaned over to ask Daphne what was going on.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"How are you doing that? Hermione asked in a shrill whisper. Harry began to laugh quietly.

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

"Hufflepuff, _obviously,_" Harry said with a bit of a drawl as he continued to grin.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Okay, seriously, Orion, how are you doing that?" Draco asked, looking at him funny.

"Reid, Addison!"

"_Another_ Hufflepuff," Harry chuckled.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat cried out a moment later.

"Sinclair, Archibald!"

"And yet _another_ Hufflepuff. Gosh, we're going to have a lot of Puffs in our year."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"How are you doing that?" Crabbe exclaimed.

"Stewart, Naomi!" McGonagall called out next.

"Ah, finally another Gryffindor," Harry remarked.

"GRIFFINDOR!" the hat yelled.

"Tait, Garrick!"

"Let's see... not a real stand-out chap, but I'm pretty sure he'll be heading to Ravenclaw."

The group turned and watched the hat expectantly. A moment later it called out "RAVENCLAW!"

"Thomas, Dean!"

"And he'll go to Gryffindor," Harry said.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Damn it Black! Answer the bloody question!" Bulstrode exclaimed.

"Shhh!" one of the older Slytherins with a prefect badge on hissed and glared angrily at them and they all cowed a bit, except for Harry who was chuckling.

"Turnbull, Samuel!"

"_Another_ Hufflepuff. Geez," Harry said with a comical exasperation.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"She'll be a Ravenclaw. Bet you five galleons," Harry remarked airily.

"Given your current track record, I'm not about to bet against you," Daphne said, grinning slightly at him, clearly amused by his antics.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Weasley, Ron!"

"Oh, anyone could guess _this one_. Have a go at it, Draco."

"What? Oh. Oh, that _is_ obvious. A Weasley? Definitely a _Gryffindor,"_ he sneered.

Harry chuckled. "Yup."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"And last but not least, Zabini will be heading to our table," Harry said as he leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Zabini, Blaise!" McGonagall called out and all of his first year table mates gave him stunned looks. A moment later the hat was calling out "SLYTHERIN!"and Zabini was making his way towards them and sat down at the end.

Dumbledore stood up and called the hall to attention. He said a few words before the feast, but they were different random words than he had said in Harry's original first year. If he recalled correctly, the 'few words' from his first year were something like 'odment and tweak' or some such similar nonsense while this time he said '_Fizzing bangs and Lemon Drops_'. A moment later the food materialized on the table before them and the start of term feast officially began.

"You _are_ going to explain how you did that," Tracy Davis said in a pointed, indisputable tone that only made Harry chuckle more.

"I'm just good at reading people, that's all. I'm rarely surprised." Harry said with a dismissive shrug.

"Reading people? What's that supposed to me?" Draco asked.

Harry grinned. "I don't know how to explain it really. I just look at a person and I get this gut feeling about them. Maybe it's some sort of natural divination. I don't know."

"Wait, is that what you meant on the train?" Hermione asked, looking at him with dawning understanding. "When you said you had a sixth sense about people? When you said you'd be my friend?"

"Yes, that's right. I knew the second I saw you in the compartment that you and I would be good friends. It's just how I work," Harry said with a simple shrug.

"For real? _Her?" _Pansy Parkinson said, disbelievingly as she sneered at Hermione. Harry gave her a sharp glare.

"What do you see about me then?" Nott asked, excitedly.

"Uh... I don't know. Not much. It isn't really a _seer_ thing. I mean... not really, I don't think. It's just a _feeling_ I get with some people, and it's kind of random. Picking out which house everyone was going to be in was easy, but I haven't necessarily picked up on much of anything else from most people."

"That was still pretty brilliant though. Are there many seers in your family?" Daphne asked.

Harry shrugged. "No clue, honestly."

"So Black, are you really Sirius Black's son?" one of the older Slytherins asked from down the table asked, cutting into their conversation.

"Yes," Harry said simply, choosing not to elaborate unless asked.

"So where have you been the last ten years while he was locked up in Azkaban?" the boy asked with a smirk.

"With my mum in France," Harry said blandly as he scooped some potatoes onto his plate. Hermione looked at him with a startled expression and a questioning look.

"Who was your mum?" Another older student asked, this one Harry recognized as Lucian Bole from the Slytherin Quidditch team. One of the beaters, if he recalled correctly.

"Erin Aubrey," he replied.

"Oh, I've heard of her. Bertram Aubrey's sister right? I thought she went missing during the last war?"

"She took me and left for France after dad was sent to Azkaban. She died last year though. That's why I came back to Britain."

"You don't sound French," Terrance Higgs, a sixth year, and the current Slytherin Seeker, said with a suspicious look.

"We lived in a small village that had mostly British ex-patriots. They'd all left Britain because of the war, same as my mum. I _can_ sound French if I want, but I can also sound English just as easily. I figured I'd fit in better if I stuck to a British accent."

"Why was your father in Prison?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He was framed. Accused of killing twelve muggles and of betraying the Potters. He and James Potter were best mates – practically brothers. People thought he gave their location up to the Dark Lord. He didn't do it, or kill those muggles, but he never got a trial. He was just sent straight to Azkaban without even getting questioned. This last spring the man who really did it was caught and my dad was acquitted."

"Oh my god! He was locked away for ten years and he didn't even do it? And he never got a trial?" Hermione gasped.

Harry scowled and nodded his head slowly.

"I've read about Azkaban. It sounded absolutely horrible..." Hermione said, grimly.

"There are no books that can adequately describe what it really feels like to be around a real dementor. You really can't even imagine it until you've experienced it for yourself. Just hope you never have to."

"Are you saying you've seen a dementor in person?" Bole asked with a mixture of skepticism and shock.

"I have. It's not an experience I'm eager to repeat," Harry said easily.

"Did you know that it was Orion who actually got the DMLE to reopen his father's case and got uncle Sirius freed?" Draco said, cutting back into the conversation. Several heads focused on him and then onto Harry with raised eyebrows, asking for confirmation.

"It's true. My mum was always convinced that dad was framed, but she wasn't willing to leave France and bring me back into all of this... but after she died last year, I decided I'd come back and try to get something done about dad."

"How'd you do it?" Higgs asked.

Harry sighed and reluctantly began to explain how he 'hired a wizard to do an advanced locator spell' and found Pettigrew. He went on to describe visiting going to Amelia bones and how events progressed from there. He was relieved when conversation finally drifted away from him and onto other subjects.

Several of the Slytherins gave Hermione scrutinizing looks while they were all sitting there and eating, but Harry was relieved that none of them came straight out and called her on her heritage during the feast. He knew that trend wouldn't last for very long. In fact, he would be surprised if they got back to the dorms without someone taking note of her being a muggleborn.

Finally the puddings disappeared and Dumbledore stood to his feet, calling everyone's attention to him.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we all head in for the night, I have a few short announcements to make. New students are advised, and some old students are _reminded_, that the Forbidden Forest is _forbidden_. Our caretaker Mr. Filch has also asked me to remind everyone that use of magic in the halls between classes is not allowed. He also asks that I mention that a complete list of banned items can be found in Mr. Filch's office. Finally, I am pleased this year to announce that in light of Professor Kettleburn's retirement, Rubeus Hagrid will be taking on the position of Care of Magical Creatures professor.

Harry blinked in surprise but then grinned widely. Some of the hall began to applaud politely, although none of them were Slytherin's. Harry didn't care about them and he clapped loudly as he smiled up at the half-giant who was going red in the face and grinning sheepishly.

The applause died down and then Dumbledore finished up and dismissed everyone; instructing the prefects to guide the first years to their new common rooms.

Harry stood in a bit of a surprised daze for a moment, wondering what to make of the changes. Professor Kettleburn had retired two years early, so Hagrid was getting the job in Harry's first year instead of his third. But equally, if not more notable, was the fact that the Philosopher's Stone didn't appear to be there that year. At least, there had been no warning about the third floor corridor and certain death.

Kristine Vanity, a 5th year prefect called all of the first years together and told them to stick close to her because it was easy to get lost on the way to the dormitories.

Hermione, Daphne, and Tracy were all talking and Harry was surprised to see the Hermione getting along so well with the two Slytherin girls. Harry admitted that he really never got to know Daphne Greengrass very well. Her family had stayed neutral in the war. Tracy Davis, if he recalled, was actually a half-blood.

The group of first years finally started moving, trailing behind Vanity and the other 5th year prefect, whose name Harry hadn't caught yet. The trip down through the dungeons to the Slytherin common room was familiar enough to Harry. He'd only been in there twice, before but he still knew right where it was.

Vanity came to stop at the blank space of wall between two pillars carved to look like snakes.

"The door to the common room is located right here. The door will only appear if you speak the password and the password will change every week. Make sure you don't leave the dormitory on Monday mornings without finding out what the new password is or you'll get locked out and have to rely on someone who actually _paid attention_ to let you in," Vanity said with a pointed look at the gathered firsties.

"The current password is _Ophidian_. Remember it." With that, she turned to the wall and spoke the password quietly. Where there had once been a blank expanse of gray brick, appeared a stone archway. Vanity stood back and motioned all of the first years inside.

The common room beyond had low-ceilings and appeared almost dungeon-like. It had greenish-colored lamps and lots of low backed black and dark green leather chairs and sofas with buttons in the shape of skulls. It had dark wood cupboards, and the tables that were placed throughout the room had snakes carved around the legs and around the outer edges. Overall it had a rather grand atmosphere, if not for the fact that it was also exceedingly creepy.

Harry let a small sigh escape him. He was going to miss the Gryffindor common room. How the hell had this happened? Bloody hell, he had to be a Slytherin for the next seven years. How depressing.

"There are two main corridors as you can see," Vanity continued to speak as soon as everyone had gathered. "The corridor heading to the west," she said, motioning towards one wall with an open archway, "leads to all of the girl's dorms. The corridor heading from the east wall goes to the boys. First door on the right goes to the first years dorm room. First door opposite it on the left is the bathroom your year gets to use.

"In Slytherin, after third year you can get a single room for an extra fee added to your tuition. The hall that leads to the singles is through the door on the south wall. Since it's common for several Slytherins in each year to take advantage of this opportunity the rooms for third year and up are smaller than the room you'll all be in this year, but you'll likely be sharing it with fewer people in third year and up."

The other fifth year prefect, a boy who Harry learned was named William Pritchard, took over then and explained the notice board that was mounted on the wall beside the door into the common room. He then went on to tell them all to make sure they were gathered in the common room the following morning at 7:30am because Professor Snape would be handing out their timetables and then the two sixth year prefects would be guiding all the firsties to the Great Hall for breakfast.

They were then dismissed to their dorm rooms and Harry bid Hermione goodnight before dragging his feet as he followed behind Draco and Nott to his new room.

– –


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This chapter contains the stuff that I missed when posting the story the first time around. If you felt like re-reading this story to find the stuff that got accidentally missed out, this is the chapter to read.

– – – –

Harry found it amusing, and possibly a bit disconcerting, to discover that the curtains on the beds in the Slytherin dorms were charmed. Once they were pulled closed, a sticking charm and a silencing charm automatically activated. The curtains also appeared to be charmed against a whole slew of hexes and jinxes. Clearly _trust_ wasn't a big part of being Slytherin.

Harry had set an alarm for 6am that morning and as soon as it went off, he changed into a pair of jogging shorts and a t-shirt and slipped out from the dorm. He quickly made his way up through the dungeon, out through the entrance hall and onto the grounds. It was nearly 7:10am when Harry finally made his way back inside. He rushed through a fast shower and ran back into the dorm room just as Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were heading out.

"Where were you?" Draco asked, startled by Harry's sudden appearance.

"Went for a run around the lake," Harry said as he jogged over to his bed and pulled open his trunk.

"You did _what?_ Why?" Draco exclaimed.

"Stay in shape. I prefer to stay active. I try to run at least a couple miles every morning."

Draco just stared at Harry as if he were completely insane before shaking his head in exasperation and leaving the room with Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

Harry had just finished pulling on his robes and raced out into the common room as the clock struck 7:30am. He hurried over and came to a stop beside Hermione just as Snape came in through the common room entrance with black billowing robes and his patented sour glare.

"Welcome to Slytherin house," Snape drawled in a deadly quiet voice as he began to pass out schedules to each of them. "I am your head of house, Professor Snape. My office hours are posted on the bulletin board. If you _absolutely need_ to speak to me about something, come during those hours. Do _not_ come whining to me about your petty trivial disputes amongst yourselves. I will not _care._ If you are having trouble with your dorm mates do try to work it out amongst yourselves and if necessary seek the advice of a prefect. This is Slytherin and I expect a certain level of maturity from my snakes. Please do not disappoint me. As members of the great and noble house of Salazar Slytherin, a certain level of proper behavior is expected of you. You _will not_ misbehave in public, and for those of you too stupid to manage to control your baser urges, you will make sure to _not get caught._

"You have just received copies of your timetables for this year. You will notice that each class is shared with one or all of the other houses. Unfortunately the headmaster has the most annoying tendency to pair Slytherin house with Gryffindor house more often than not. When you are in a class with the Gryffindors you _will behave yourselves._ They are nothing but a bunch of reckless dunderheads and will cause more than enough damage to the school without having you all egging them on. Am I understood?"

Silence.

"_Am I understood!"_

"Yes sir," the group muttered as a whole.

"Good. The rules are all posted on the bulletin board on that wall," Snape pointed towards the notice board again that the prefects had shown them all the night before, "I expect you all to _read it_, and _understand it._ Ignorance is not an excuse. The rules are clearly posted and claiming that you _didn't know_ will not get you out of punishments.

"You will learn fast that I do not take points from my own house, but do not think that means I will not _punish you_ when you misbehave. You will soon learn that having points removed is far preferable to a detention served with me or the caretaker, Mr. Filtch.

"I also expect you all to make it to your classes in a timely manor. If you do not know how to get to your next class, ask a prefect or one of the older students. If you find yourself lost, ask one of the portraits on the walls for directions. Do not just wander aimlessly. Stick to your housemates until you have a good grasp on the layout of the castle. I do not want my snakes looking like a bunch of directionless layabouts who are tardy for their classes. The Gryffindors will do enough of that for the whole school.

"Breakfast is served every morning from 8am until 9am, lunch is from noon till one, and dinner is from six until seven. If you miss a meal, it is your own fault. I'm sure some of you will notice that try-outs for the quidditch team will be held at the end of next week, but first years are _not allowed on the team_. I will not listen to your whining about the unfairness of life, so don't even bother coming to me. You will have your chance to try out _next year_.

"I believe that is sufficient for now. If you have additional questions, ask one of the prefects, and if you absolutely _have to_, you can come see me during my office hours. Are there any questions right now?"

His black obsidian eyes trailed over the cowed group of first years but then came to a lingering stop on Harry. His sneer deepened considerably but Harry kept his face passive and forced on a slightly confused innocence and rose a single questioning eyebrow. Snape's eyes narrowed and if looks could kill, Harry would likely be having a coronary at that moment.

Finally Snape pulled his eyes away and gave the crowd a curt nod. "Good. Now get to breakfast."

With that, Snape spun around, causing his black robes to billow dramatically, before he quickly strode out of the common room.

"Not a very pleasant man, is he?" Hermione whispered to Harry while still staring wide-eyed and semi-horror stuck at the archway that their head of house had just vanished through.

Harry snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

– –

"So... _Granger..._" Pansy Parkinson started to say in what Harry thought was an excessively annoying nasally tone, as the first years came to sit at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for breakfast that morning. "I'm not familiar with your family. What do your parents do?"

Hermione pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Parkinson, who was sitting directly opposite her and Harry. The pug-faced brunet was smirking back knowingly.

"My parents are both dentists," Hermione said simply, raising her nose slightly in the air.

"What the ruddy hell is a _dentist?_" asked Bulstrode.

"It's a type of doctor; like a healer, sort of, but for teeth," Harry added in from his spot to Hermione's left. "You have to go through eight to twelve years of specialized schooling and earn a doctorate degree to become one, and if you establish your own practice, like Hermione's parents have, you can make pretty good living."

The gathered first years turned their attention to Harry and looked at him sightly confused.

"But that's a _muggle_ thing, right?" Crabbe asked, still looking clearly bewildered.

"Yup," Harry said simply with a shrug.

"So how do _you_ know that, Black?" Bulstrode asked.

Harry snorted. "Just because I come from a pureblood family doesn't mean I saw fit to allow myself to remain _ignorant_ of what goes on with the majority of the inhabitants of this planet. You all may not respect muggles, but _they_ are the _majority_. Witches and wizards make up less than two percent of the human population of the planet. There are over five _billion_ people on this planet and less than a hundred million of them are magical."

The group blinked at Harry and remained quiet for a moment as they tried to make sense of what he'd said. Pansy, clearly didn't understand and chose to go back to her initial gameplan. She turned back to face Hermione and spoke, "So your parents are both _muggles_ then?"

Hermione's lips thinned into a very tight line and she glared daringly back at Parkinson.

"Yes, they are."

Parkinson scoffed and turned her nose up, making a face like she'd just smelled something especially bad. With her squashed pug-nose it looked especially unflattering. "What in Merlin's name was the hat _thinking_. Putting a _mudblood_ in Slytherin! It's just disg–"

But before she could even finish the sentence she was suddenly rocketed out of her seat and went flying back about five feet to land on her butt, and then fall spayed on her back. The hall was filled with gasps and several people at the Ravenclaw table that Pansy had landed near jumped up and squealed in surprise.

"What happened, here? Who is responsible for this?" Snape said, rushing over to where Parkinson was now splayed spread eagle on the floor, unconscious. He looked back at the group of stunned first years with deadly questioning eyes. "_Well!"_

"I believe I did it sir," Harry said absently with a shrug and not an ounce of remorse. All of the rest turned to look at him with stunned faces. No one had seen him do a thing. He pulled his hand out from under the table with his wand.

"And dare I ask as to _why?_ Snape said in a low menacing hiss.

"I believe it was an accident, sir. I don't know any spells to do something like that, so I suppose it was accidental magic. She _was_ making me rather angry at the time. I think I let my emotions get away from me. I'm terribly sorry, sir."

"Is that so," Snape said in a short, clipped, and rather disbelieving tone.

"You see... I'm not particularly fond of the word _Mudblood._ I can't be blamed if I accidentally hex anyone who is ignorant and intolerant enough to say it in my presence. I apologize for causing a scene in the Great Hall sir. I'll make sure to control my accidental magic better in the future. If you feel that some sort of punishment is warranted for this, I'll gladly serve it sir. I really didn't mean to cause you any trouble."

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits and his lip curled up into a sneer for a moment. "I don't think that will be necessary _this time_. It was an _accident_ after all, and accidental magic is inevitable in first years. But do _not_ let it happen again, Black."

"Of course not, sir. Thank you, sir."

Snape pointed his wand at Parkinson and cast a silent _Enervate_. A moment later she was sitting up in a daze and looking around her and all of the staring eyes with confusion and embarrassment. She looked back at the first year Slytherins and saw them all staring hesitantly at Harry who was now back to eating his food as if nothing had happened.

"What the hell just happened?" Parkinson hissed as she ducked back over to the table, trying to hide from all the eyes still staring at her from around the hall.

Draco got a smug smirk on his face and crossed his arms over his chest. "Orion just hexed you for calling Granger a mudblood," he said with a small snicker.

"What!" Parkinson shrieked and turned an angry gaze on Harry. Harry looked up and his eyes pierced her with a deadly expression that cowed her instantly.

"_And_ he got away with it!" Theodore Nott added with disbelieving shock. "I thought for sure that Professor Snape was going to have you serving detention for a week for that! How'd you manage that?"

"He's not getting punished! Why!" Parkinson exclaimed in a much more hushed shriek than before.

"I hexed you because you insulted my _friend_, and used a filthy word I do not approve of. Anyone stupid enough to use that word in my presence will get the same treatment," Harry said in a cold tone as he looked around the group pointedly. "As for why I didn't get punished, it's simple. Snape doesn't like to reprimand or punish us Slytherin's in public. He prefers to help us get off if he can, and if he can't, he prefers to keep any disciplinary actions behind closed doors. I gave him a perfectly legitimate excuse that allowed him to avoid doing anything in public, because, honestly – how many eleven-year-olds who only just got their wand a month or two prior know how to do a spell like that? No one would believe I did it intentionally anyway."

"How _did_ you do that! It was brilliant!" Draco asked excitedly.

"Draco!" Parkinson whined angrily.

"France doesn't have the same underage magic laws that Britain does. I've had my wand for nearly three years," Harry said with a dismissive shrug.

"You're kidding!" Nott exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

"Most families still don't let their children practice magic early just because most kids' magical cores aren't ready until their ten years old anyway, but my mum let me start practicing when I was eight."

"Lucky bastard!" Goyle said with a big grin. Harry rose a single eyebrow, surprised by the large boy's enthusiasm but grinned back and chuckled lightly.

"I suppose so."

"But how did you know that Professor Snape would really let you off like that?" Nott asked.

"I told you all last night; I'm good at reading people. I've got most of the professors pegged pretty good already. Besides, I didn't _know_ he'd let me off. If he'd given me a detention then I'd have served it. So be it. I'm not going to back down on my ideals just because I'm afraid of a little manual labor. He'd probably only have me scrubbing cauldrons or something."

"And you're okay with that?" Draco exclaimed with a look of absolute horror.

Harry snickered. "I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, no. Especially if it's in return for doing something I felt the need to do. Like hexing stupid, ignorant little girls who don't know how to hold their tongue in civilized company."

"Why you!" Pansy started to shriek but the death glare Harry shot her shut her up instantly. She tried to glare back, but it wasn't nearly as intimidating. Finally she growled in frustration and turned her attention to the others.

"How can you guys be okay with this!" Parkinson squealed shrilly. "He stood up for that filthy mu –" but she stopped herself as Harry cut her with another frightening glare, and she saw him fingering his wand. She swallowed and her eyes darted between Harry and Granger whose lips were pursed and she was shooting Parkinson with a daring expression.

"Hmm... I don't know, Pansy," Draco drawled slowly as he examined his fingernails airily, "Orion made a fairly convincing argument to me back on the train, on the way to Hogwarts. If he wants to stand up for Granger, then so be it. It doesn't matter to me. Plus if he _Sees_ something in her – and she _did_ get into Slytherin, after all – I'm not about to start making assumptions before I even know anything about her."

Parkinson's jaw dropped and she looked at Draco with incredulous shock. Her eyes darted around the others gathered, looking for support, but no one was willing to go against the guy who had just blasted her out of her seat and sent her flying five feet through the air... oh, and who had _gotten away with it_, to boot. Finally she huffed in anger, stood up and stormed out of the hall. Harry smirked in victory before returning to his meal.

_Maybe it won't be so hard to keep them off Hermione's back after all..._

– –

"Thank you," Hermione said in a quiet whisper as they walked down the corridor.

"Hmm? What for?" Harry asked.

"For standing up for me. For vouching for me. I feel like they might not treat me so bad now... well, Pansy probably will, but at least not out in the open."

"Don't mention it. Besides, I should be thanking you too."

"For what?"

"For standing by me. I know you followed me to Slytherin. You were supposed to go to Ravenclaw, weren't you?"

Hermione blinked in surprise before ducking her head and pulling her lower lip between her teeth. "How do you _do that?"_ she asked in an exasperated whisper. Harry chuckled.

"All right, you lot. This is the Charms classroom!" the sixth year prefect, Evan Croaker, said as he came to a stop outside Professor Flitwick's classroom. All of the first year Slytherins crowded past him and into the room before he turned and left.

Harry couldn't help but mentally remark how nice it would have been to have a prefect guiding him around the castle his _first time_, when he actually had no idea where he was going. Why didn't the Gryffindor prefects do this?

The Slytherins had arrived in one group, obviously, and with several minutes to spare. They all took seats along one side of the classroom and waited while the Gryffindors slowly trickled in. The chime rang and Harry couldn't help but notice that Ron and Seamus were both still missing. Why was he not the least bit surprised?

Professor Flitwick started calling roll, and about half way through the list, the two lost lions scurried in through the door panting and out of breath. Flitwick, being Flitwick, forgave their tardiness, remarking that it was the first day and how easy it was to get lost in the castle.

The class passed at a snails pace. It was all theory and discussion. Harry never rose his hand to volunteer an answer, even though he knew all of them. He figured his performance would be impressive enough once they started the practical work, and didn't need to add to it by answering all of Flitwick's questions too.

By the time the class ended, Harry felt his mind numb from boredom, and this was only his _first class_. He sighed in relief and the group of Slytherin's made their way back to the Slytherin common room for their free period.

As soon as they got down into the common room, Hermione, in a fit of academic excitement, cracked open her charms book and instantly began on her homework, even though they had until the following Monday to get it completed. Harry sighed heavily and followed her example, if for no other reason than to get it out of the way. Most of the other Slytherin first years left the common room about half-way through the free period to find something more interesting to do, leaving Harry and Hermione to make their way to the Great Hall for lunch on their own. The two were walking through the corridor, and Hermione was ranting excitedly about the charms theory reading when Harry heard a familiar jovial soft voice sound from behind him.

"Hello, Mr. Black." Harry froze and turned slowly. Hermione stopped walking forward and turned around with equally wide eyes, surprised by the man she saw standing there, although for entirely different reasons than Harry was.

"Hello Headmaster," Harry said smoothly, masking his shock. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, I simply wished to commend you on the rather impressive little performance you gave at the start of term feast last night."

"Performance?" Harry echoed in confusion.

"That little _magic trick _during the sorting. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything quite like it."

Harry blanched. "Huh? Wait, how...?"

"Oh, I'm quite observant, and I have surprisingly good hearing."

Harry stared at Albus Dumbledore with a wide-open mouth, in stunned silence. Finally he asked, "why would you even think to try listening in to what _I_ was saying?"

"Well, I probably only caught the later half, but you did draw quite a bit of attention from your fellow house mates. I was merely curious as to what all the fuss was about. I didn't mean to intrude."

Harry wondered suddenly if Dumbledore often made it a habit to eavesdrop on the Slytherin table, but then also realized that he probably approved of such a cautious action and couldn't quite find it in himself to be angry at the man.

"Oh... okay," Harry said, hesitantly, still rather stunned by the whole thing. He had wanted to impress his housemates, but he'd had absolutely no intention of any of the professors getting wind of his so-called 'divining skill'. The point was to make them all believe he had some sixth sense about people who were going to suceed later in life, so when he hung around with people they disapproved of, he could claim that he was setting himself up with powerful future allies. Slytherins would never forgive someone hanging out with a _mudblood_ unless there was a good ulterior motive. His plan had worked so far, but having any of the professors aware of his actions had not been part of the plan.

_Damn. This could be bothersome. _ He really hadn't intended to garner Dumbledore's attention at all. And certainly not this early.

"Is this something you've been able to do for long?" Dumbledore continued on easily.

"Er, I suppose so," Harry admitted hesitantly. Slytherins were not supposed to give up information willingly. And definitely not to headmasters who used to be head of Gryffindor house.

"I'm curious as to how much detail this skill gives you on a person."

"Well, like I told the others, it's really hit and miss. I don't always get much detail about everyone. It's really just a gut feeling. An impression or something."

"Mm.. . Very interesting."

_Shit... is it even possible for a seer to have a skill like that? Fooling eleven year olds is one thing, but fooling Dumbledore?_

"It has been quite a many years since I last encountered someone with a skill like that. And for it to be so accurate in one so young is quite impressive. Of course the field of divination is a diverse one, and often unpredictable."

_Lucky!_

"Unfortunately you cannot start any of the elective courses until third year, but if you did desire it, it could be arranged for you to have unofficial weekly meetings with Professor Trelawney. She could help you in honing this impressive skill of yours."

Harry choked on air and sputtered slightly before clearing his throat and recovering. "Er, no thank you sir, that's quite alright. I'll wait until third year to consider taking divination."

_Or I'll never consider taking it. Damn crazy bint. Nothing but a fraud. Oh hey! I could take ancient runes this time! Hermione was always going on about that class, and they were bloody useful when she was warding our temporary safe-houses..._

"Well, if you're sure, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said.

"I'm sure," Harry insisted.

"Then I suppose I shall give you my leave. Good day, Mr. Black. Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a kind smile and a little dip of his head before turning and heading away from them.

Harry blinked after him and sighed quietly.

He was going to have to be more careful of what he said while sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Realizing now that Dumbledore actively eavesdropped on them would force him to change his strategy slightly. But he could manage.

– –

Lunch passed quickly enough. Harry kept his head down and opted to just listen to the conversations going on around him, rather than join in much. Nothing particularly useful was discussed, but he was making mental notes about any and all personal information he garnered about his new house mates. Know thy enemy and all that.

When it came time to head to their next class, one of the seventh year prefects – boy named Newton Keen – led the way. Harry was a bit bewildered at first because the boy was obviously not leading them to the classroom that he had always taken defense in his first time around. Instead they were led to a much larger classroom, on the third floor, that he'd never actually seen used before.

The room was actually round in shape and made up mostly by large, wide-open floor space, with seating in three curved rows, forming a semi-circle around the room.

The Slytherins had all arrived first, and they took up the seats along the north side of the classroom and waited. Hermione was seated at the edge of the Slytherins with an empty seat to her right, while Harry sat directly to her left. Draco sat to Harry's left, and beside him sat Crabbe and then Goyle. Slowly students from the other houses started trickling in. It was at this point that Harry realized that this class wouldn't just features Slytherins and _one_ other house, but _all_ of the houses at once.

After a few minutes everyone seemed to be present and the chime sounded, marking the start of class. A door in the back of the open space opened and Alice Longbottom walked out, carrying a piece of parchment that Harry identified as the role.

It was almost... _surreal_ seeing her walking about. He'd only really seen her a few times while visiting St. Mungo's with Neville, and then he'd seen her at the funeral. It wasn't like she was the first person that he'd seen dead in his world to see alive in this one. Hell, _most _of the people he'd been interacting with in this world had died in his – it was just that she had _always_ been sort of... gone. And now she wasn't.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts," she began, "I am professor Longbottom. As I'm sure you've noticed by now, this class will be unique is that it includes _all_ of the four houses, instead of just one or two of them. This will only be the case for the Monday session. Every Monday, all four houses worth will meet here in this room for the demonstration and practical portion of the class. On Wednesdays the Gryffindors and the Slytherins will get together for the lecture, and question and answer section. On Thursdays the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws will have their class. I have structured my class this way for a reason, which will become more clear as the term progresses.

"For the practical lessons, you will have a group of students that you will always be working with. Let's go ahead and get those groups set up now. I want everyone to stand up. Come on, everyone up!"

The room filled with muffled murmurs and quiet discussion as everyone stood up.

"Now everyone come into the center of the classroom," she called out, beckoning everyone forward. "Alright, now I want everyone to find one partner _from another house._"

Several people groaned or grumbled in annoyance. Harry looked over at Hermione with an apologetic shrug, and then repeated the action for Draco who was looking decidedly irritated with the prospect of partnering with someone from one of the other houses.

Harry turned and quickly began to scan the crowd of students for Neville. He spotted him quickly, standing off to the side, looking around the room in a mild state of panic. It was obvious that the small round boy was not the least bit confident about finding himself a partner. Harry walked directly over to him and put on his best comforting smile.

"Hey Neville. Want to be my partner?" Harry asked easily.

Neville jumped a bit and looked at Harry with startled surprise. His eyes darted down to the green and silver trim, and the snake emblem on his robes, but quickly moved away to look at his feet.

"Oh, er... alright. Um, Black, wasn't it?" Neville asked, finally raising his head and meeting Harry's eyes.

"Yeah, but you can call me Orion. To be completely honest, I'm still not entirely used to going by Black."

Neville looked confused now. "Why?"

"Well, I grew up as Orion Audrey. My dad was in Azkaban, you know, and my mum and he never actually married. I'm sort of a bastard child, really," Harry said with a grin and a chuckle. "Dad legally adopted me this summer, so my name changed to Black to make it all official, but it's still kind of new for me."

"Oh... wow. I didn't know that."

Harry shrugged. "Not many do. So, your mum's the teacher, yeah? That's gotta be cool."

Neville's cheeks pinked a bit and he shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed. "I don't know... it's a bit intimidating, to be honest."

"Intimidating?"

"Yeah, I... well I'm pretty rubbish with magic. My family thought I might end up a squib growing up. Mum never believed them, but they're basically right. I hardly showed any magic at all. But now my mum is my teacher so she's going to see how bad I am at it all..."

"That's rubbish. Magic is all about confidence. Believe in yourself and it'll be ten times easier. Besides, you mum isn't going to think less of you if you're a bit slow catching on. Everyone learns at a different pace."

Neville looked up at Harry with surprise in his eyes, mixed in with his normal skepticism.

"Alright! Does everyone have a partner from another house!" Professor Longbottom called out. She scanned the crowd of students until she seemed satisfied. "Good. Alright, this person will be your primary partner for the year, but there will also be projects where you will need a larger group. Now that you have your groups of two, I want every group to find one other group, ideal with people from different houses, but I know the math doesn't add up for that to work, so if there's a few groups with two people from the same house, it's alright. Everyone, go!"

Harry grinned and turned to Neville. "Come on, I know what group to go with." Neville blinked on surprise as Harry grabbed Neville's arm by the elbow and dragged him directly over to Hermione.

"Hey 'Mione. You remember Neville?"

Hermione turned around and blinked owlishly, clearly startled by the shortened version of her name. Then she grinned widely and ducked her head to hide his pleasure. She recovered quickly, clearing her throat and looking at Neville. "Oh yes... Hello Neville."

"Whose your partner?" Harry asked, looking at the Ravenclaw girl with Hermione. He vaguely recognized her, but she was one of those girls that he never interacted with at all.

"Oh, this is Rachel Murray," Hermione said nodding her head towards the girl. She had long, straight black hair with a tiny tinge of brown to it in the highlights, and black eyes.

"I'm Orion Black," Harry said, offering out his hand to the girl.

"Pleased to meet you," she said taking his hand and shaking it. She then turned to Neville and offered her hand to him as well. He took it and mumbled out something that sounded a bit like 'please to meet you too,' but it was hard to say for sure.

"Are you sure we can group together, Orion?" Hermione asked, looking worried, "this would make out group having two Slytherins."

"There are more first years in Slytherin than any of the other houses, it's inevitable that a few groups are going to have more Slytherins in it," Harry said with a dismissive shrug."

"Are there really?" Neville asked, looking surprised.

"Yup, there were nine new Hufflepuffs, nine new Ravenclaws, only seven new Gryffindors, and ten new Slytherins," Harry said.

"How do you know that?" Rachel asked, looking surprised.

"I counted them during the sorting," Harry said with a shrug.

"Alright, alright!" Professor Longbottom called out. "Are everyone groups sorted out?" She looked around and it was obvious that not everything _was_ sorted out, so she started to walk through the groups, moving some people around until she was satisfied. "Okay, good. Now I'm going to take role and make note of who are in what groups and then we can begin our lesson.

– –

It was obvious that Professor Longbottom was big on group projects. Although it made perfect sense to Harry when he thought about it. She had been an Auror and saw the importance of working as a team. Harry couldn't help but agree. It was important to have a team that you could trust to watch your back. Someone who could cover for you, and someone who could help drag your bleeding body behind some cover long enough to administer a couple healing potions or hand you a port-key to get the hell away.

Her approach of forcing inter-house cooperation was one he found interesting. The act of picking people who you weren't necessarily friends with, would also mean that people would be less apt to hold back during sparring practices, although Harry didn't imagine that first years would be doing much sparing or dueling. Still, the theories were sound, and he was curious to see how the class would pan out. Obviously, he wouldn't be learning anything new – it was a _first year defense class_ after all. But at least it would be something new and different and not just a verbatim repeat like his other classes were going to be.

Monday's Defense class was a double session which meant it ran from lunch to just a half hour before dinner, with a small break in the middle. When class was finished, Harry and Hermione made their way over to the other Slytherins and the group made their way down to the Slytherin Common Room together. Harry wondered if this 'togetherness' would last the whole year, or if it was just because no one wanted to get lost. Harry, being the one who legitimately knew his way around the castle, ended up in the head of the group, leading them back down to the dungeons.

Draco was directly to his right, immediately flanking behind him was Crabbe and Goyle. To Harry's left was Hermione, and then all of the rest of the Slytherins trailing behind them. Draco was still clearly leading most of the first year snakes in a sort of an alpha male role he had achieved from a mixture of his pompous self-confidence, and the fact that his father was such a powerful political figure, but he also seemed to consider Harry as something of an equal, or at least an individual deserving of respect. There was also the fact that Harry never treated Draco with any sort of deference. He treated Draco as an equal, at best, so Draco never tried to walk all over him. Harry was surprised it was working, to be honest.

Down in the common room, Hermione joined Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis on one of the low-backed black leather sofas and the three began discussing the defense class. From what Harry could hear as he began to leave, Daphne was whining bitterly about having been stuck in a group with Lavender Brown from Gryffindor, while Tracy exclaimed how relieved she was that she ended up in a group with two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff. Harry begged off to the boys dorm and sat down at his desk with parchment and quill. He needed to write his letter to Sirius and figured now was as good a time to start as any.

He sighed heavily and put quill to parchment.

_Sirius,_

_Well I just finished my first day of classes. As much as many things are exactly the same, I also managed to be completely surprised too. First and foremost – the sorting. I'm honestly... I don't know, embarrassed? Horrified? Shocked? But I guess I just have to come out and say it. I got sorted into Slytherin._

_You heard me. The damned hat sorted me in with the snakes. If I hadn't been so stunned, I'm sure I would have sent the thing on fire._

_The weirdest thing is that the hat honestly didn't seem like it was aware at all of my 'unique situation'. I had always assumed that it read people's memories to determine their personality or something, but I guess maybe it doesn't because it had no idea about me. It just landed on my head and went 'oh, I know where to put you' and then yelled out Slytherin. Fucking hat._

_I guess I'm not the same person I was when I actually __was__ eleven and got sorted into Gryffindor. But hell, lets see anyone who managed to survive two and a half years of trench warfare without having to becoming a bit cunning and deceitful. I guess my Slytherin side has come out more than I really realized. But really – what's more ambitious than going around planning to defeat the most powerful dark lord in the world? Yeah, so that's my big shocking news._

_But I've decided to try and work this to my advantage. I can be my own spy. My eyes on the inside. Same reason I figured it'd be beneficial to get friendly with the Malfoys. It'll be a load easier to know when Voldemort is back and active if I'm close with one of his inner circle members. Draco, in my world, was always bragging about his father's accomplishments to his fellow snakes so if Lucius gets back in with Voldie, I'm sure when Draco hears about it, he will let it slip. This also gives me the opportunity to get in with the other Death Eater kids. Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle's dads were all in the inner circle, and now they're my dorm mates._

_It's... weird_ _sharing a room with Crabbe as a kid. I killed him, you know? Not till he was 18 of course, and I suppose there's no guarantee that __this__ Crabbe will end up the exact same as the one from my world, but it's still weird._

_The other truly stunning thing from the sorting that I never expected in a million years was Hermione. I told you about her – she's the muggleborn girl who stuck by through the whole bloody war? The brilliant one that saved my neck so many times? Well, I don't think I mentioned it, but she was __really__ awkward as a child. Had a lot of trouble making friends. I didn't even become friends with her till two months into my first year. Well I made it a point to find her on the train and offered my friendship, yeah? Problem is that she was apparently really taken with the idea of having made her first real friend because she followed me to Slytherin._

_Looking back, I know she must have convinced the hat to put her in Gryffindor back in my world. She probably thought Gryffindors would be more friendly, and since she so desperately wanted to make friends, thought it would be a good idea. Because, honestly? She belongs in Ravenclaw. No question. In any case, she asked the bloody hat to stick her in Slytherin so she could be with her first real friend._

_I feel just horrible about it, but I'm trying to fix things. I mean... seriously? A muggleborn in Slytherin? Disaster waiting to happen. One of her dorm mates has already called her a mudblood at least once – that I was present – and I'm sure it's happened at least once or twice while I wasn't present. But she seems to be getting friendly with a couple others, which is reassuring. Kind of surprising too because she was never able to make friends with the girls she shared a dorm with in Gryffindor in my world. But then again, the Gryffindor girls in my year are all air-heads and idiots, so it really was never that surprising that Hermione couldn't find any common ground with them._

_So, anyway, being sorted into Slytherin basically forced me to throw out all my plans, but I've been formulating some new ones rather quickly, and so far, it's worked out. _

_I've started to lead my dormmates to believe I've got a bit of a sixth sense. A sort of magical Seer's intuition about people. It seems to have worked and most of them seem willing to put up with my choice to hang out with Hermione since I've insisted that I've Seen that she's going to be a force to be reckoned with. And she will be, so it's not a lie._

_I still find it utterly dumbfounding to even contemplate the idea of a Slytherin Hermione. _

_My fake 'Seer's intuition' game has already bit me in the arse once though. Did you know that Dumbledore eavesdrops on the Slytherin's during meals? Well, apparently he does, because he caught me at my game and approached me in the hall today asking me if I wanted special lessons with Trelawney. HA! That barmy old bint is a total fraud, and I'm not going anywhere near her._

_Anyway, I guess that's all I've got for now. Pretty long letter for only one day here, huh? I'll write again soon._

_Orion_

Harry taped his wand on it and the text vanished. He had worked out a system with Sirius before coming to Hogwarts. The spell he had used would disguise his letters with more mundane text like _'My dorm mates are fun. I'm making lots of friends. Classes are interesting but hard. I miss you.'_

To see the _real _letter, Sirius would tap the parchment and say '_I solemnly swear I am up to no good'_.

– –


	5. Chapter 5

AN: More stuff that got accidentally skipped! Woo...

– – – –

While unpacking his things that evening, Harry came across the bottle of his animagus potion and set it in one of the drawers of his desk. He didn't think he wanted to do it while any of his dorm mates were around, and the potion wouldn't expire for six months so he wasn't necessarily in a rush. He figured he'd try finding some time that weekend.

The week passed exceedingly _slow_. Harry was bored out of his mind. His homework was easy and he got it done without any difficulties. He'd continued with cordial relations with his housemates, and managed to avoid any serious altercations with any of them. Some of the Slytherins, especially the older ones, were still extremely cold to Hermione once it became more widely known that she was a muggleborn, but Harry stayed close to her whenever possible.

Harry sat next to Neville in his Defense class on Wednesday to work on their classwork. He was working on improving the boy's confidence, but he knew it would be a long journey.

Friday arrived and Harry felt his hesitant trepidation growing to a peak. He wasn't yet sure how he was going to handle the Snape issue. He'd hated the man for so many years, and he'd even watched him send the killing curse at Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't until about six months later that he had come to understand what had really happened. What Dumbledore's black withered hand really was.

When he'd first learned that Snape had been _forced_ into the whole thing, it had given him pause. He was forced on two sides. Both by his vow to Narcissa Malfoy, as well as his promise to Dumbledore himself. And it had been absolutely necessary that Voldemort believe it was real. That the Order believe it. Everyone believed it, and Harry had felt like the only man who knew the true. Ron refused to believe it when Harry had discovered the truth. But Ron and Harry rarely saw eye to eye in those days. That time had been the beginning of the end of their friendship.

For a year and a half, Harry and Snape had had secret correspondence and had even met in secret a few times. They'd had several close calls together, and had even gotten stuck in one of the safe houses with only each other for company for two whole weeks. During those years the two had grown strangely close. Neither would ever suggest that they _liked_ each other, but they no longer hated each other. They shared a bit of a kinship. They had both been Dumbledore's pawns. Both of their lives had been molded and manipulated by the old man. They had slowly grown to understand each other. And Harry had mourned Snape's death with far more sadness than he had ever expected to.

So now that he was approaching the Potions classroom he couldn't help but feel conflicted. He wasn't James Potter's son this time, but he was Sirius Black's son, which he was sure would be just as bad in the eyes of Severus Snape. The fact that he was not famous, nor the fact that he was a Slytherin, likely would not save him from the man's acerbic wraith.

He knew he would still want to lash back at the man if he was attacked, but there was another big part of him that wanted try and save the man from his fate. Save him from Dumbledore's manipulations. He just wasn't sure how the bloody hell he was going to accomplish such a task when Snape was sure to hate him.

All he could do was hope the fact that he was a Slytherin would keep the man from lashing out too much in class. Snape _hated_ to take points from his own house.

"You okay, Orion?" Hermione said quietly as they walked down the hall.

"Hmm?" Harry said, pulling himself from his musings and looking at Hermione with blank confusion.

"You've just been sort of out of it today. You've been so distracted all morning."

Harry shook his head and gave her a soft smile. "I'm just tired. Didn't get enough sleep last night. At least tomorrow is Saturday so I can sleep in if I need to."

The group of Slytherins entered the potions classroom as a group with five minutes to spare before the start of class. The desks were split into two sides with a wider space between the two sides. The Slytherins filled out the left side of the class, with two seats to a table. Pausing at a table an idea went through Harry's mind and he looked at Hermione with a brief moment of hesitation.

"Hey, 'Mione? Do you mind if I sit with Draco in this class?"

Hermione blinked and then smiled. "Sure, that's fine. I can sit with Daphne."

Harry grinned. "Great, thanks."

Harry quickly went over to Draco and gave him a questioning look as the blond boy began to sit at a table in the front row. Draco nodded his head and Harry sat down beside him. Crabbe and Goyle sat together at one table and Harry gave Draco an amused look.

"That can't be good..."

"Hmm?"

"Vince and Greg are sitting together. I hope they don't blow anything up," Harry said with a snicker.

Draco glanced back at them and then gave Harry a questioning look. "How do you know if they're any good at Potions?"

"Well... I suppose I don't _know, _but they aren't exactly the two sharpest knives in the drawer, and if their classwork so far this week is anything to go by, I don't exactly have high hopes for their performance in _this_ class."

Draco snorted and smirked as he began to dig his supplies out of his bag and set them up on his desk. Harry pulled out the assigned potions text, _Magical Drafts and Potions_, as well as _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, and some parchment and quills. _

_Be prepared. Take notes. Pay attention. Sit with Draco. _That wasn't much of a plan, but it was a start.

Draco was Snape's godson, so he could hopefully avoid some of the brunt of the man's anger if he associated himself more openly with the blond boy.

After a few minutes, the Gryffindors began to show up and slowly fill in the other side of the classroom. Once the chime had rung, Snape burst into the room with his black billowy robes, all intimidating and overbearing. He read through the roll and while he did pause for a moment to fiercely glare at Harry when he reached 'Orion Black', he did not call him out or make any snide remarks about celebrity... because, he _wasn't one_. Harry concealed a small grin.

It was the strangest sense of deja vu as Snape went through the exact same spiel that he had in Harry's original first year. Right down to his introduction about bottling fame and putting a stopper in death. He finished up with the remark about his students usually being a bunch of dunderheads and transitioned instantly into throwing random questions around the room.

The difference here was that the questions he was tossing out were actually things covered in their textbook's first few chapters. It was surprisingly 'fair' of him – in a relative sense, anyway. Just the same, almost no one actually knew the answers, beside Hermione. The difference this time was that Hermione was a Slytherin, and not some _snot-nosed Gryffindor_, so Snape did not hesitate to call on her when her hand shot into the air. She earned Slytherin house nearly forty points in just the first fifteen minutes of class. The Gryffindors were glaring daggers at her. Snape had called on nearly every one of them, asking some question that none of them had known. Once they'd given up, Hermione had answered the question, showing them all up. The only exception was a question Snape had asked Seamus Finnigan, and in that instance, Draco had known the answer and raised his hand.

"Mr. Black," Snape called out suddenly, in a sharp tone.

Harry sat up a bit straighter and tried to put on the air of giving the professor his undivided attention.

"What would I get if I mixed powdered ginger root, concentrated armadillo bile, and ground scarab beetles?"

"A wit-sharpening potion, sir," Harry said easily.

Snape's brows rose minutely. Harry had yet to raise his hand for any of Snape's questions, so Snape had probably assumed that Harry hadn't known any of the answers. As it just so happened, he'd known them all, but he was sticking to his plan of not standing out when not needed.

"Correct," Snape said with a small air of surprise. "What is the antidote to the swelling solution?"

"The Deflating Draught, sir."

Again, the tiniest flicker of surprise entered Snape's eyes, but was quickly gone again. "Very good. Name one use of ashwinder eggs."

"When eaten whole they can cure ague," again Harry answered instantly. This one garnered more surprise, and even Hermione hadn't raised her hand for it. Ashwinder eggs were a restricted ingredient, so there was no way that any potions involving them would be in a first year textbook. In fact, Harry knew for a fact that they were even discussed until fifth year in preparation for their OWLs.

"Correct..." Snape said slowly. He narrowed his eyes and gave Harry a piercing glare. Suddenly Harry felt a pressure against his mind and slowly, a presence tried to slip inside. Harry wasn't really concerned though. All of his _real_ thoughts and memories were locked away inside his mind and concealed behind a wall of fake thoughts and memories he had constructed in preparation for both Snape and Dumbledore's inevitable mental intrusions.

The presence dug around for a moment, but Harry kept his face passive and showed no sign of being aware of it at all. Snape grimaced a bit and pulled out after going through a few modified memories of Harry and Sirius watching movies together in front of the telly and tossing popcorn back and forth at each other playfully.

"Alright, _Black_, name three ingredients in the Befuddlement Draught."

"I believe that's a NEWT level potion sir so I'm afraid I'm not familiar enough with it to name three... but I'm pretty sure that sneezewort, scurvy-grass are two of them."

Snape's lip curled slightly, and his face took on an almost constipated look that was _extremely difficult_ not to laugh at. It looked like the man was waging an internal war. On one hand, one of his Slytherins had just answered a question far above what they should know, and could warrant a very significant point award. On the other hand, that student was the son of his schoolyard nemesis, Sirius Black. Quite a conundrum.

"Correct. A third is lovage," Snape said, finally before turning away and glaring at the rest of the class, who were all looking at Harry with different variations on shock. Hermione looked envious and Draco looked a bit smug. "Well, why aren't you all taking this down?" Snape snapped at them before turning to face the board and filling it with instructions with a wave of his wand.

The rest of the class progressed in much the same way it had in Harry's original time, only this time he was sitting on the same side of the aisle as the green and silver snakes. Neville still partnered with Seamus Finnigan, and _still_ managed to add in the nettles when the potion was still boiling, resulting in a horrible explosion that sent Neville to the hospital wing covered in boils.

Ron partnered with Dean Thomas and the pair of them ended up with a goopy green concoction that smelled like rotten eggs. Snape had snarled at them and banished the noxious mess before it could foul up the classroom too badly. Harry and Draco's potion was the perfect pale opaque blue and Snape nodded approvingly at Draco, and then scowling with an uncertain expression at Harry. Hermione and Daphne's potion came out just as good as Harry and Draco's and again, Snape gave them mild praise.

As the class was leaving, Harry heard Ron and Seamus grumbling in annoyance at Snape being a dirty greasy git who pampered his snakes while picking on the Gryffindors. Draco had snorted and rolled his eyes, but Harry had just remained silent. He certainly wouldn't defend the potion master. It was true, and everyone knew it – including the Slytherins.

– –

The weekend came and Harry slipped away from all of his dorm mates after making sure that Hermione would be fine without him. She was studying in the Library with Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis when he left them, so he felt relatively secure that she'd be fine. Hermione had been spending a lot of time with the two blonds and Harry realized that he really needed to make the effort to get to know them better. Hermione seemed to get along well with the pair of girls, despite the fact that Daphne was from a very old and proper pureblood family, and Tracy's family was on the dark side and he knew that they'd sided with Voldemort in the war. The fact that pure-blood Daphne didn't seem to mind Hermione's heritage honestly surprised Harry, but he wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

He grabbed his animagus potion from his trunk and made his way up through the Grand Staircase, all the way to the forth floor. He dodged a few Gryffindors by ducking behind tapestries and into secret corridors, and finally made his way to the section of hall that featured a large tapestry with ballet dancing trolls.

Harry paced back and forth three times in front of the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy while thinking, _'I need a private place to take my potion'_. On the third pass a door appeared in the stone wall opposite the tapestry and Harry quickly made his way inside.

The room that Hogwarts provided for him was rather plain and simple. It had a chaise lounge in the center with a number of pillows on it, and a small low table in front of it. Harry made his way over, sat down on the chaise and pulled the potion bottle out of his robe's inner pocket. He laid back on the lounge to get comfortable – since he knew that the potion would be putting him into a trance – uncorked the bottle and downed in in one gulp.

Everything was hazy and dark. There was a chill to the air and the wind was blowing against him harshly. He could feel a sense of elation as he soared through the air, feeling the wind currents under his... wings?

Harry blinked and realized that his vision was extraordinary. He could see so far, and so clearly. The tiniest movements on the ground far below him caught his focus instantly. He turned his head, trying to get some sort of idea of what he was. He definitely was some sort of bird. He stretched and wiggled his taloned legs and toes. The strangely shaped limbs felt weird, and they they also felt right. He beat his wide powerful wings and felt the air rushing under and through them.

Twisting his head he observed his body. His feathers were mostly a grayish-white, with specks of grayish-brown. He had a broad chest, long pointed wings, and a long barred tail. It was still difficult to really figure out what sort of bird he was, though.

He looked out over the surrounding landscape and saw a large lake to his right and quickly veered off in that direction. Flying felt _so right_. It was even better than being on a broom! It was the most amazing feeling, and he just instinctively knew how to do it. He knew just how to twist his body, or angle his wings, or adjust his tail feathers to catch the wind just right, and gain the most speed.

He dipped lower the closer he got to the lake and started to slow down in speed. As he glided over the surface of the water, he looked down into it, trying to get a good look at himself. He was definitely some sort of falcon or hawk, although he seemed pretty large for a falcon. He'd never personally seen a falcon as large as he appeared to be.

He was quite fond of his appearance. He had to admit, he made a pretty beautiful bird. He mentally snickered at the thought and angled his body to begin turning. He let his taloned feet drag across the surface of the water for a moment before raising a little higher before coming to land on the shore of the lake.

He hopped around a bit, feeling extremely awkward on land for a moment. He practiced moving around, lifting and extending his wings in various movements, memorizing the way everything felt. The better he remembered all of this, the easier it would be to perform the transformation in the real world.

As he was twisting his neck around, giving himself another good one-over he felt himself growing tired. The landscape around him was quickly growing dark and before he knew it, he was blinking owlishly and looking at the simple open space that the room of requirement had provided him with.

He shook his head, blinking rapidly and trying to clear his hazy mind from the potion-induced trance. He sat up, supporting his weight with one arm on the back of the chaise lounge. A grin spread slowly across his face. He had an animagus form. And it was a fairly cool one too. He needed to figure out exactly what he was. Perhaps he could owl-order to Florish and Blotts for a book on bird breeds. Birds of Prey, more specifically. He wondered if he'd really even find a very useful book on birds from a wizard bookstore. He suspected that he would get better results if he went for a muggle book.

Making the decision, the room suddenly shifted to provide him with a desk and a chair. He stood up and sat down in the chair just as a quill and parchment appeared before him.

_Moony and Padfoot,_

_I took that potion today, and I got great results! You'll be needing to come up with a nickname for me too before too long. Of course, now I've actually got to master the darn transformation first, but I'm sure I can manage. My goal is to decimate your record and get it done by next summer. Think I can do it?_

_What I need now is a good book on birds. I need help identifying a certain breed. I'm going to look through a catalog from Florish and Blotts for any books, and of course, also check the Hogwarts Library, but I was thinking I might have more luck with a muggle book, so maybe you can help me out there?_

_I'm looking for a very large breed of falcon or hawk. Mostly white in color. So if you can find a muggle book on various types of birds of prey, I think that could help me narrow it down._

_In other news, classes are so horrendously boring, I think I may die before I ever even face Voldemort. Seriously. But there's something more that I didn't even realize. I anticipated the first year course-work being mind numbing, but I totally neglected to take into account how brain numbing it would be to have to spend all my free time with a bunch of children._

_I mean, I love Hermione. Really I do. But I really really miss the 20-year old Hermione I left behind, and am finding this 11-year old version insanely frustrating. Not to mention the 11-year old version of the rest of my class. Holy hell, I never realized how stupid first years were when I actually was one._

_I think I'm coming off as anti-social, but I'm just finding it really difficult to spend all my freetime with a bunch of kids half my age. Anyway, those books would be greatly appreciated. I guess I'd better get back to the children. _

_Missing you guys! _

_Love, Orion_

– –

The next week of classes were just as boring and mind numbing as the last. Defense proved to be mildly interesting, during the Monday session, since they actually got off their arses and did some practical spell work – although it was obscenely simple and Harry couldn't find it in himself to find any of it interesting. But he was getting Neville to open up some more, and Hermione loved the opportunity to try and help the shy boy out.

Transfiguration was the hardest class for him to disguise his advanced standing. McGonagall had them trying various practical transfigurations every class, and Harry was finding it surprisingly difficult to fail at transfiguring things. After having learned how to properly transfigure, and having done it mindlessly for so many years now, trying to do it wrong, was proving harder than he'd expected. Several times while trying to fail at it, he'd still done it perfectly.

He figured his magic was just working on auto-pilot from so many years of practice. Of course, thanks to this, McGonagall had practically labeled him as a transfiguration prodigy and was singing his praises every class period. He'd earned his house a load of points.

It was easy for him to fade into the background in Herbology because he had _never_ given a crap about that class. He never volunteered to answer questions unless he was specifically called upon, and simply followed directions and followed the rest of his classmates for their work in the greenhouses.

'History of Magic' was just another name for 'nap time'. Same-o-same-o.

Charms was all theory. Flitwick was never one for rushing into practical spellwork, and had stuck entirely to assigning readings, and discussing magical theory, so it had been easy to go unnoticed.

Wednesday morning he received a letter back from Sirius along with a small parcel that he assumed was probably a book on birds. He opened the wrapped parcel to discover that it was actually two things. It was a book, like he had assumed, but it also included a box of sweets. He grinned at it, seeing that it was a box of all muggle sweets and chuckled.

"What have you got there?" Draco asked, leaning over and looking into Harry's package.

"My father sent me sweets... oh, and a book I asked him for."

"Really? What kinds of sweets?"

"Umm... some Mars Bars, Cadburry buttons, Curley Wurly's, a Double Decker Bar, some Fry's Turkish Delights, some Nestles Kit Kats, Toffee Crisps, and a couple Snicker bars."

"Whut?" Draco said looking at Harry with complete confusion. "I've never even heard of any of those."

"Oh, that's because they're muggle candies," Harry said, chuckling.

"_Muggle_ candies?" Vince exclaimed. "Why would you want _muggle_ candies?"

"Whether they're made by muggles or wizards, they're still made with sugar, and they're still good. Have you ever had a Mars Bar? Eat one of these and _then_ ask me why I would want muggle candies," Harry said tossing one of the Mars Bars to Crabbe. The oversized boy caught it clumsily and eyed it suspiciously for a moment before wrapping it and sniffing at it as if he were afraid it was poisoned. Harry snickered.

He pushed his finished plate of breakfast food away and dumped out most of his box of sweets onto the table, and offered for his house mates to take a sampling. Hermione refused, as Harry had expected. Being raised by dentists and all, she had basically been hardwired to avoid sweets.

Draco, Daphne, Tracy, and Greg all hesitantly picked out a different sweet. Harry tossed a candy each down the table to Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini a moment later. Pansy was sitting further down and turned her nose up at the sweets, sneering disdainfully at the lot of them, lowering themselves to eating inferior muggle products.

After the group of them began to acknowledge that, _yes_, muggles were actually pretty damn good at making sweets, even Milicent Bulstrode asked for one, and everyone else asked for seconds. Harry even managed to get Hermione to eat some Cadburry buttons after a bit of gentle prodding.

Later that day, after classes and after dinner, Harry holed himself up in his dorm room and pulled out the book on birds that Sirius had sent. A letter was folded into the front page and Harry opened it first. At first glance, it looked blank except for the line, '_Hey Orion. Here's the book you asked for. Love Dad_' but Harry knew there was more to it than that. He tapped his wand on the parchment and quietly whispered _'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'_, and the _real_ letter materialized.

Harry read it through and felt some of his stress and worries melt away with the kind, reassuring words. Even though Harry had put up a strong front, and had been handling the whole 'sorted into Slytherin' thing, pretty well, a part of him, deep down inside, had still been worried about what Sirius would think of the whole thing.

Sirius insisted that it didn't bother him at all, and it didn't change his opinion of Orion in any way. He would always love him no matter what. He had become a son to him, and nothing would change that. Harry actually felt the prickling of tears, threatening to escape his eyes and he had to quickly blink them back as he smiled down at the letter. He really felt... _loved_.

He still had trouble reconciling the whole 'dad and son' thing sometimes. Intellectually, he knew that Sirius was not his real father, and Sirius knew that Harry was not really Orion Black, but the magic from the blood adoption was very powerful. It was like, while his mind knew Sirius was really his godfather, and James Potter was his real father, his heart was absolutely convinced that Sirius Black was his father, and he really was Orion Black. Every day that passed he felt more like he really was becoming Orion Black, and not just pretending to be him.

The later half of the letter was spent exclaiming how proud Sirius was that Harry was able to start the animagus transformation practice. If Harry's body hadn't been ready or if he had been incapable of it, he wouldn't have had such a successful vision. The fact that he'd seen so much, and it had been so clear was a sure sign that he really was ready.

He relayed a few words of praise and congratulations from Remus as well and then went on to describe some of the houses he'd been looking at. He'd acquired the services of a muggle real estate agent, a rather attractive young woman, that Harry could tell Sirius had a thing for from his oh-so-subtle hints at how nice the woman's posterior was. Harry chuckled as he read the letter and set it aside once he'd reached the end.

He cracked open the book and began flipping through the pages, looking at the pictures and reading the descriptions of the various bird species, looking for anything that sounded and looked right from his trance dream.

About fifteen minutes of skimming through the thing he came across one that looked exactly like what he'd seen in the reflection of the lake.

_Falco rusticolus ORDER: FALCONIFORMES FAMILY: FALCONIDAE_

_**Gyrfalcon**_

_Falco rusticolus is the largest of the falcon species in the world. The Gyrfalcon breeds on Arctic coasts and the islands of North America, Europe, and Asia. _

_This species is a very large falcon, being about the same size as the largest buteos. The Gyrfalcon is in size between the Peregrine Falcon and the hawk in general structure, being unmistakably falcons with pointed wings, but also being broader-winged, and longer-tailed than the Peregrine._

_The Gyrfalcon is a very polymorphic species, so its plumage varies greatly. The archetypal morphs are called "white", "silver", "brown", and "black", though they can be coloured on a spectrum that begins with all-white birds and ends with very dark ones. The brown form of the Gyrfalcon is distinguished from the Peregrine by the cream streaking on the nape and crown and by the absence of a well-defined malar stripe and cap. The black morph has its underside strongly spotted black, rather than finely barred as in the Peregrine. White form Gyrfalcons are unmistakable, as they are the only predominantly white falcons. Silver birds resemble a light, grey Lanner Falcon of larger size. There is no difference in colouring between males and females; and juveniles gyrkins are darker and browner than the corresponding adults._

_In medieval times, the Gyrfalcon was considered a royal bird. It was highly prized as far away as the Sultan's court in Egypt. The geographer and historian Ibn Said al-Maghribi (d. 1286) described certain northern Atlantic islands west of Ireland where these falcons would be brought from, and how the Egyptian Sultan paid 1,000 dinars for each Gyrfalcon (or, if it arrived dead, 500 dinars). Due to its rarity and the difficulties involved in obtaining it, in European falconry the Gyrfalcon was generally reserved for kings and nobles; very rarely was a man of lesser rank seen with a Gyrfalcon on his fist_

Harry stopped there. There was quite a bit more written about them, but that was enough for now. The next page had even more pictures of different variations on the bird, but most of them most definitely matched what he'd seen in his dream. He was _positive_ this was the right bird.

He grinned to himself and felt a rush of eager anticipation.

He couldn't really enjoy the learning experience of redoing all his first year classes, all over again, but he could at least get _something_ accomplished. He was looking forward to the day he could perform the successful transformation and experience that glorious feeling of soaring through the air, again.

– –

Thursday morning brought with it an event Harry had honestly hoped wouldn't repeat itself. Neville Longbottom received a package in the post from his Gran. It was the Rememberall. Harry almost groaned aloud as Draco eyed the small orb with gleeful interest. Harry could see the desire to snatch the thing away and mess with the small round boy.

Draco was beginning to stand up when Harry grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him back down into his seat. Draco was startled and looked over at Harry with confusion.

"What?" he hissed in annoyance.

"Don't," Harry said under his breath.

"Don't what?"

"Longbottom. Leave him be. Mess with the Weasel or Finny, but leave Longbottom alone."

"What? Why?" Draco exclaimed.

"Remember what I told you the first day of school on the train? About people who get picked on when they're young, and then become something bigger later in life and make life miserable for the people who picked on them?"

Draco took on a calculating look, but also looked at Harry with significant skepticism.

"_Longbottom?_ Are you kidding? He's practically a squib!"

"No, he has no self confidence because even his _family_ treat him like he's worthless. Someday he's going to grow up, be in a very powerful position, and be very very _bitter. Leave him be._ Pick on one of the _other_ Gryffindorks."

"Is this part of that seer thing you do?" Draco asked with sudden interest.

Harry paused for a moment. "Yes."

"Okay... but seriously? _Longbottom?_"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I know. But really now, why the hell did you think I partnered up with him in Defense?"

"Because his mother is the teacher," Draco said with a shrug as if it were obvious. "Special privileges."

Harry shrugged and gave Draco a 'alright, you're right there' sort of look. "Yeah, but I'm also trying to get on his good side. I mean, I could either be one of the people he looks back and remembers with bitter resentment, or one of the few people he looks back and remembers as someone who stood up for him and helped him out. I'd rather be his friend and ally than his enemy."

Draco looked absolutely incredulous. "_Longbottom?_ I still can't see it. What the hell is he going to become?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't get that much detail. But I've got an incredibly strong gut feeling that he's going to be important some day, and the people who treated him like shit are going to regret it. It's even stronger than the gut feeling I had that told me Hermione was going to be an absolutely brilliant witch, and that someday you're going to be a huge political force to be reckoned with."

"Really?" Draco asked, his eyes suddenly lighting up with excitement.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Of _course_. You're a Malfoy. I don't even have to be psychic to know that's coming."

Draco sat back with a big, smug grin on his face, looking rather accomplished for having actually done nothing.

After a moment he turned to Harry with curiosity. "Have you seen anything like that on anyone else?"

Harry screwed up his face, trying to look like he was working through his so-called sixth sense. "Weasley is probably going to end up playing Keeper for the Chudley Cannons."

Draco snorted and had to cough to hide the sudden urge to burst into hysterics. "The _Chudley Cannons?_ How _pathetic!"_

Harry snickered and smirked back at Draco. "Yeah, thing is that if I told him that, he'd probably be thrilled."

"What? Why? The Cannons are a joke!"

"I'd bet you ten galleons that the Cannons are his favorite team and he actually _wants_ to be their keeper."

"So he's an idiot?"

Harry snorted. "Yup. It takes a special kind of moron to _want_ to play for the Cannons. The Weasel is just that sort."

Draco chuckled. "I don't doubt it."

As Harry left the Great Hall that morning to head to his first class, he had to admit to himself that he honestly made a pretty damn good Slytherin.

– –

At 3:20 that afternoon, all of the Slytherins made their way out, as a group, to the Hogwarts grounds for their first flying lesson. There were a little more than twenty brooms on the ground in two lines, and all of the Slytherins came to stand along one line, one student to a broom. They stood around, waiting impatiently, for the Gryffindors to show up.

By 3:30, all of the lions had finally shown up and Madam Hooch started the lesson. It was just as Harry remembered it. Hermione had been nervous all day, and she barely got her broom to wiggle when she yelled 'Up!' at it. Draco got his up on his second command. Harry, of course, got his instantly.

Once everyone had their brooms up and had mounted them, Madam Hooch went down the lines and corrected their grips. She went on to explain that she would count down and on 'three' they should all kick off from the ground, hard, hover in the air for a moment, and then come back down.

She stood to the side, brought the whistle up to her mouth and said, "One... two... th–" but before she could even finish the word, Neville, in a fit of nervous panic kicked off the ground and began to fly, uncontrolled into the air.

Harry quickly pulled out his yew wand and trained it on Neville's figure as the round boy floated haphazardly into the air, started to turn and twist off the side of his broomstick and began to fall.

"_Impedimenta!"_ Harry shouted out and Neville came to a complete halt about two feet before crashing into the ground. The jerk to a sudden stop was clearly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as hitting the solid ground would have been. Nevile floated there with wide, startled eyes for a moment before Harry canceled the spell with a silent _finite_, letting Neville to fall into a lump on the ground.

The shocked eyes of the class shifted suddenly from the form of Neville on the ground, over to Harry who was only just lowering his wand and sliding it back into his leather wrist holster. Madam Hooch raced over to Nevile, and helped him to his feet, checking him over for any injuries. As soon as she was sure the Gryffindor boy was fine, she turned her surprised and clearly _impressed_ eyes on Harry.

"Mr. Black, that was quite impressive. Ten points to Slytherin for your fast thinking, and for saving a fellow student."

Harry shrugged and gave off an air of disinterest as he reached down and picked his broom back up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco bending down and picking something up from the ground. He turned his head and rose a silent, questioning eyebrow at Draco, who was now looking at the Rememberall in his hand with a speculative gaze.

Neville was walking his way back towards the line of students with his head bowed in embarrassment, while the rest of the class slowly reformed their earlier lines and remounted their brooms.

"Hey, Longbottom!" Draco called out.

Neville's head jerked up and his expression was a mixture of surprise and fear. "Er, yes?" he asked, hesitantly.

"You dropped this," Draco said, tossing the Rememberall across the open space, directly at Neville.

Neville scrambled to catch it, almost dropping it twice before he managed to get a good hold on it. Finally, sighing in relief at having a good grip on it he looked up at Draco with a look of incredulous shock.

"Er, t-thanks."

Draco shrugged and tilted his nose to the side and into the air a bit as a sign of disinterest.

Once Madam Hooch made sure that Neville wasn't about to perform a repeat of his previous screw-up, she got everyone ready on their brooms again and after a quick count-down, she blew her whistle and the lessons actually began.

– –

The weeks continued to pass without anything of anything noteworthy. Every morning Harry would get up long before his dorm mates so he could go do a couple laps around the lake. Every evening Harry would spend an hour performing the animagus meditations in the room of requirement.

He and Sirius had kept in regular correspondence, and he'd sent a few letters back and forth with Remus as well. He'd owl-ordered some books from Florish and Blotts that actually contained some subject matter beyond the first-year drivel he was exposed to on a daily basis.

As much as he cared about Hermione, he was exceedingly grateful that she was getting on so well with Daphne and Tracy because he really didn't have the stamina to put up with her 11-year old self. He did get her a present for her birthday on on September 19th. She hadn't told anyone about it, so the fact that he just seemed to magically _know_ only seemed to add more credence to his whole 'seer' story.

As September turned into November, it started to get more and more frigid in the mornings and Harry decided he needed an alternative for his morning exercises. He ended up using the Room of Requirement. The room ended up providing him with something that was basically the same as a treadmill. It didn't have the visual stimuli of a picturesque Scottish Loch, but at least it didn't involve freezing his testicles off each morning.

While Harry wasn't much for actively socializing with his classmates, he did make use of the time he spent in the Slytherin common room. He would sit there with a book open in his lap, pretending to be engrossed in it's pages, while in reality he spent the entire time listening to all of the various conversations going on around him. He rarely got anything useful, but he was slowly starting to form a much better understanding of the pureblood social society and their traditions.

Snape's class was always a bit strange for him. Snape never quite seemed to know what to make of Harry. Harry's class performance was always flawless, and he always answered the enumerable questions that Snape had developed the habit of throwing his way on a weekly basis. After 4 classes, Snape seemed to decide that Harry's perfect potions had to be a result of being partnered with Draco and assigned partners to everyone in the class. Most people got partners that were within the realms of who they normally chose on their own, but Harry was assigned to work with Neville.

As far as Harry was concerned, this was fine with him. It took quite a bit more effort to still accomplish a proper potion, since Neville was _really really bad_ at potions, but it did give Harry more opportunities to try and work on the Gryffindor's considerably pathetic self-esteem.

Their work together in Defense had been rather effective in that regard as well. Neville was slowly but surely starting to show some confidence, and even his classwork was improving a bit as a result. Harry, Hermione, Neville, and the Ravenclaw Rachel Murray had established a weekly study group in the library to tackle their Defense class assignments, and they had a pretty good working relationship. Rachel, who was a half-blood with a muggle-born father, but a mother from one of the old, yet untitled, pure-blood flamiles, was a bit on the quiet side, but she and Neville seemed to have managed to find a lot of common ground and often got each other talking surprisingly easy.

Transfiguration had continued to prove a difficult class to hide his advanced standing, and McGonagall continued to praise his classwork. Most of his other classes had remained in the realm of theory and book work, but as the end of October drew near, classes started to focus more and more on practical exercises in class, than just theoretical discussion. Harry tried to minimize any extraordinarily obvious skill, but it was surprisingly hard to fake performing a spell incorrectly.

Another unexpected complication that had come up during the last month was an increasing hostility with the Gryffindors. Harry had tried to stay as neutral as possible since he knew he would likely need the trust of the Gryffindors at some point if the war started up again, but his patience really only went so far with them.

Harry had basically come to hate Ron Weasley during the last year and a half before he 'died', and Seamus and Dean had both pussied out and ran as soon as things got bad and the war really heated up. He had no idea what happened to either of them. He could sort of forgive Dean since he was muggleborn and he probably wanted to try and get his muggle family as far away from all the danger as possible, but it still left a foul taste in his mouth that the two boys who had always gone on about bravery and courage had been such blatant cowards when it really mattered.

So when Ron, Dean, and Seamus started taking it upon themselves to be openly hostile to anyone wearing green and silver – and specifically _him_ – Harry found it exceedingly difficult not to respond accordingly.

It was one such day when the three 1st year Gryffindor boys had tried to hex Harry in the hall, Harry had easily deflected it and spun around, pointed his wand, and transfigured their robes while simultaneously spelling their hair. The whole event had taken less than a second, and it was nearly five seconds later before the three eleven-year-old boys even realized that something had been done to them. The moment they _did_ notice, they had all shrieked in embarrassed horror and gone running at top speed. Harry chuckled to himself and turned around to find two familiar and maniacally grinning identical faces looking down at him.

"Well, I'll be, brother of mine. That was quite an impressive accomplishment," one of them said.

"That it was, that it was. Quite impressive indeed."

"Especially for a firstie."

"And a _Slytherin_ firstie, at that. They're usually not quite that creative."

"Hullo," Harry said easily as he looked up at them and folded his arms across his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Well, now that you mention it –"

"–we wouldn't mind if you told us exactly what charm you used –"

"–that made their robes transfigure into those funny looking skirts."

"And the animated little dogs dancing along the hem was a nice touch. Oh, and I was wondering what was up with transfiguring their trainers to be black and white?"

"The skirts are called poodle skirts, although normally the poodles don't move," Harry said with a smirk. "and the trainers are called saddle shoes. It's a reference to an old muggle thing. Ask your friend Lee Jordon. A movie called 'Grease' would be a good reference. I was actually thinking of transfiguring Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil's robes into leather jackets, white t-shirts and blue jeans, and then charming their hair into a duct-tail type deal, but I doubt that would go over too well with the other Gryff girls and they honestly scare me."

"A Slytherin whose familiar with muggle references?" one of the twins said as he turned and looked at his brother with exaggerated shock in his face.

"Shall wonders never cease?"

"He even has a sense of humor!"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, well with a marauder for a father, I'd be pretty pathetic if I didn't have one."

The two red-heads turned abruptly and their faces took on an entirely different expression.

"What was that?" one twin said.

"A _what_ for a father?" the other added.

Harry forced on a look of bewildered confusion. "Uh... a marauder. Sorry, it's an inside joke. It's the name my dad and his friends called themselves when they were younger. You wouldn't get it."

"You just might be surprised. Please young marauder, do tell?"

Harry proceeded to give them a brief history of the Marauders, with necessary bits edited out or altered. Of course he wasn't Prong's son now, he was Padfoot's, but that didn't exactly make a big difference in things. He also said that Moony was an animagus who turned into a wolf, not a werewolf. Lupin's lycanthropy wasn't public knowledge at this point, and if Harry could manage it, he would keep it secret.

In any case, the Twins were stunned, thrilled, and ended up _begging_ Harry to allow them to owl his father and 'uncle'. They also revealed to Harry that they had discovered the existence of the Marauders during their first year when they'd had a detention with Filch and had discovered the Marauder's Map. Upon mention of the Map, Harry had acted excited and gasped, exclaiming that his Dad had told him about it, and had lamented about how it had been confiscated during their last term at school, and how he was eternally saddened that he was unable to pass it on to his own son upon his going to Hogwarts.

The twins had shared a long silent look as if the two were telepathically communicating with their eyes before turning back to Harry and offering to give it to him, on the condition that he might occasionally let them borrow it.

He had agreed with a wide grin.

He had the map back.

– –

It was one week before Halloween and Harry was racing down an empty corridor with a mild sense of panic. He turned a corner and came to a stop as his head darted from one side to the other, searching for the best hiding place. He saw an open door, ducked his head inside and found the room totally empty – although upon closer inspection, he realized that the room was probably one of the teacher lounges. He hesitated for a moment, but decided it would probably make a good hiding place since his persuers would probably not have the guts to enter one of the teacher lounges. He raced inside and quickly made his way to a large standing wardrobe to the side that was mostly empty. He slipped inside and pulled the door shut.

He heard the sounds of footsteps hitting the stone floor out in the hall as it drew closer and then gradually faded away. He heaved a sigh of relief, but wasn't willing to abandon his hiding place so soon. He could wait a few minutes to help guarantee that they wouldn't catch him.

So why was he hiding?

Hermione, Daphne, and Tracy were trying to find him. Why were they trying to find him? The three had been experimenting with facial and hair glamors that Tracy had learned from her older sister. The kind that could lengthen or shorten hair, change it's color, and change eye color, and even the shape of your eyes and nose. They had been changing each others hair and eye color all night in the common room and giggling madly.

Harry had been stunned that Hermione would actually partake in something like that – she had always held quite a bit of disdain for all the make-up glamors that Lavender and Parvati were always going on about when she was a young Gryffindor in Harry's old world, but Daphne and Tracy had managed to make it about learning something complex and interesting, so she had ended up quite excited and intrigued despite her natural predisposition to dislike anything excessively 'girly'.

The problem was that once they got tired of messing with each others' faces, they had desperately wanted to mess with one of the boy's faces. They had all instantly insisted that out of all the boys, Harry and Draco were the prettiest and that they should use them as their test subjects. Draco had put his foot down and said in no uncertain terms that he was far too dignified for such an action... and then they had pinned him down and actually _tickled him!_ Harry realized belatedly that the girls had apparently gotten into a lot of sweets, so they were probably some sort of sugar high.

They got a few laughs out of their torture of Draco and had then turned on Harry.

He had run.

And that was how he had ended up hiding in a wardrobe in a teachers lounge. He was just about to consider it 'safe' and leave when he heard the door to the lounge open and then close again, followed by the sounds of heals on stone floor. He stood frozen, listening intently.

"Now come on, dear, I know when something is bothering you. You've been like this for days. I'm worried about you," McGonagall's voice said in a concerned yet soothing voice.

Another female voice heaved a sigh and Harry heard the sound of the person sitting down on the edge of a desk or table.

"Oh Minerva... I just don't know what to do..." it was Professor Longbottom.

"What is it? You know you can talk to me, and I'm sure whatever it is that's bothering you won't seem so bad if you can just lay it out there."

"I'm not so sure... I don't think that _anything_ can make this better..."

They were quiet for a moment and Harry wished he could risk pushing open the door to the wardrobe so he could peak out, but he knew he couldn't.

"You... you remember back when Neville was just born how Albus had Frank and I go into hiding?" Longbottom said hesitantly after a moment's silence.

"Of course. The Potters went into hiding too."

"Do you know... _why_ he had us all go into hiding?"

"I... know a bit," McGonagall said hesitantly. "Albus never told me the specifics, but I know that there was some sort of prophecy involved. It was the reason You-Know-Who went after Harry Potter."

"The prophecy never said which child it was about by name. It listed several factors and both the Potters and us fit the general description. But in the end _He_ chose the Potters. He marked little Harry and it was Harry Potter who became the boy-who-lived."

"Right."

"But it _could_ have been my Neville. _He_ just as easily could have come after us that night."

"But he didn't come after you," McGonagall insisted wearily.

"No... he didn't. The thing is that the prophecy basically said that the child it spoke of was the only one who could defeat You-Know-Who. But then Harry Potter _died._"

"I don't see what this has to do with anything..." McGonagall said slowly.

"Albus thinks that You-Know-Who is coming _back_, Minerva! Did you hear about the Philosopher's stone? It was stolen this summer! He thinks that _He_ was behind it! That _He_ has it and he's going to use it to come back! That maybe he already has!"

Harry felt his heart shoot up into his throat and then plummet into the pit of his stomach. _The stone had already been stolen! Voldemort already had it! Shit!_

"Oh dear!"

"But if _He_ does come back, there's no Harry Potter to fulfill the prophecy. He's gone, Minerva. And now... now... Albus wants to try and... I don't know... _prepare_ Neville for it instead."

"Neville? What for?"

"He hopes that somehow since Neville _could_ have been the one the prophecy spoke of, that he could still somehow fulfill it. I don't know... I really don't see how. The prophecy spoke of a few things that obviously described little Harry after he was attacked. And even if it were somehow possible I just... oh, Minerva, Neville just doesn't have it in him. He's such a kind boy. He couldn't possibly..." Harry heard her cough out a small sob and then heard McGonagall soothing her.

His mind was racing. He didn't even know for sure what to do with this information yet, but he knew it was important. Obviously Dumbledore had to be desperate if he was hoping to shift Harry's destiny off onto Neville. He also had to be a damned fool. Neville wasn't the boy-who-lived. He wasn't marked as Voldemort's equal, and he didn't have the power that the Dark Lord knew not, which Dumbledore should know – unless of course Dumbledore was still on that idiotic 'it's the power of love' kick. Neville, defeating Voldemort? _Pfft_! It just wasn't going to happen! It wasn't his fate to destroy the Dark Lord. It just wasn't.

Professor Longbottom's stifled sniffling pulled Harry back to the professor's discussion.

"I'm just worried about how Neville is handling the pressure. He doesn't know everything yet of course, he's just too young, but he knows something is going on. And I know it's horrible of me, but I have to admit that I'm concerned about how much time he's spending with some of the Slytherin students. I know I'm a professor and I'm supposed to be impartial and not per-judge but I just can't help... I mean, Black and Granger seem like nice enough kids, but they were sorted into that house for a reason... I'm just worried."

Harry had to stifle the urge to snort at that last comment.

"Hmm... yes. Neville does seem a bit outcast by his fellow Gryffindors. I hate to say it, but none of his dorm mates were very anxious to make the effort to befriend him. Black extended his friendship easily and Neville accepted it eagerly. I have to say that your son does seem to be benefiting, in general, from the arrangement. Both Black and Granger are absolutely brilliant students."

"I _know_... that's why I feel so bad for feeling that way. I was honestly a bit surprised that Mr. Black got sorted into Slytherin – although I suppose I shouldn't be. Sirius was the oddball of the family, getting himself sorted into Gryffindor. All the rest of them were _always_ Slytherins."

"I was a bit more surprised about Miss Granger. She's a muggleborn you know. It's been decades since the last time a muggleborn was sorted into Slytherin."

"Is she? But she's _so good _with her spells and she knows _so much_. I almost suspected that her parents had hired private tutors for her at some point like so many of the old pureblood families are known to."

"Not at all. She's muggleborn. I delivered the news to her and her family just this last summer myself. Her parents are muggle dentists!"

"Well I'll be damned..." Longbottom said before trailing off and giving another sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't be so worried. They're both nice and polite children. I've never seen either of them partaking in the same bullying I see their older housemates do... Mr. Black is surprisingly mature, actually."

"Very surprising indeed. Considering who is father, and family are. Both Sirius and Erin were good people – although Sirius definitely had a tendency to bully and pick on people when he was younger – but both the Blacks and the Aubreys were strong believers in the old ways."

"Both families also openly supported You-Know-Who. Sirius and Erin were the black sheep of their families in their refusal to do so," Alice Longbottom added.

"Yes, true. Although I suppose its really not fair to try and judge the boy by his family. He seems to be good for Neville. Try not to worry yourself on it so much."

"I suppose... Ugh! I need to get out of this funk. What do you say we slip down to Hogsmeade tonight and pay Rosemerta a visit?"

McGonagall laughed lightly. "Alright, Alice. That sounds like a reasonable idea. Come now, it's almost curfew and I need to gather some things from my office."

Harry stayed there and listened as the two left the room and the door clicked shut behind them. He waited an additional thirty seconds just to be sure, but finally slipped out from inside the wardrobe.

He stood there for a moment going over everything he had overheard his two professors talking about. He realized that as much of it seemed like a big deal, the most important piece of information he'd garnered was the fact that the Philosopher's Stone had already been stolen. Voldemort already had the stone, which mean, he likely already had a body back.

This was bad.

This was very, very bad.

– – – –

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT

I told you this was discontinued. That is as far as I wrote. I suck. I'm sorry.

**Story is up for adoption. Anyone interested, is free to send me a private message.**

As far as plans for the story, I had very little except that on Halloween night, on the way back from the feast, Harry would come across a petrified Mrs. Norris with bloody writing on the wall about the Chamber being opened. Harry would end up putting some sort of alarm on the entrance to the chamber so that it would notify him if anyone went down so he could try and figure out who the hell had the diary, since he needs to find it. If he looses track of it, he's screwed – can't destroy all horcruxes, can't kill Voldemort = screwed. I also had plans that during Winter Break he and Sirius would go track down the Guant Ring or something, but I wasn't really set on anything. Whoever / if anyone / adopts the story, is free to do whatever the hell they really want with it. Where ever their muse takes them. If someone does adopt it, I'll post another chapter, linking to the continuation.

– – – –

Cosette-aimee has started a re-write/continuation. I don't really consider it a continuation of this story, since she isn't really using any of what I've written here, she's just taken the initial premise/plot and started writing her own thing with it.

You can find it here -

fanfiction(dot)net/s/6671596/1/A_Necessary_Gift_A_Harry_Potter_Story

– – – –

Ardence is also doing a rewrite/continuation. It can be found here -

fanfiction(dot)net/s/6700252/1/Harry_Potter_and_Morrighans_Gift


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